


My Green Sun Prince Academia

by Darklogic010



Category: Exalted (Roleplaying Game), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki Faces Consequences, Clearly Marked Graphic Smut, Cover Art, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Demonic Midoriya Izuku, Eldritch Midoriya Izuku, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Infernal Exalted, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Multi, Non-Graphic Smut, Overpowered Midoriya Izuku, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Uraraka Ochako, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Supernatural Elements, Supportive Uraraka Ochako, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 225,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21681943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darklogic010/pseuds/Darklogic010
Summary: Izuku’s dreams were always out of reach. Tired of being Quirkless, bullied, and stepped on, he makes a deal with a demon. Now he has the power of the Infernal Exalted, but at what cost? Is he still Izuku inside? Will the world survive? A Green Sun will rise over U.A. University.NO KNOWLEDGE OF EXALTED IS REQUIRED TO READ OR ENJOY THISWARNING: IZU-OCHA SMUT in CH 25 and 26!!Relationships will include a harem, lots of drama, and the one thing we all really want: love.White Wolf: Exalted and Other Crossovers.  Characters from other crossovers are not tagged unless their role in the story is made significantly larger, at which point the crossover tag will also be altered.  Other pairings to be tagged as the story is updated.Cover Art at the beginning of Chapter One is by Zienu, Commissioned by Vhae
Relationships: Ashido Mina/Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina/Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou/Utsushimi Camie, Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako, Midoriya Izuku/Yaoyorozu Momo
Comments: 558
Kudos: 593





	1. A Green Sunrise

It had been the worst day of Midoriya Izuku's life.

He had met his idol, All Might, so you might think it was a great day.

He acted bravely and saved the life of his only friend, so you might think it had been a great day.

Unfortunately, if you thought these milestones weighed against Izuku's setbacks of the day, you would be wrong.

All Might had been quite clear. Izuku would never become a hero. He recklessly endangered himself and his own friend and was lucky that this time it had turned out well. The truth was that Izuku lacked the power to back up his ambitions, however noble his intent was. "I am sorry young man, but you will never be a Hero."

The finality of those words killed something in Izuku's heart. Tears burned his eyes. Nodding solemnly, he could not find the strength to argue. So, he simply turned away from his idol and walked home.

In a thoughtless daze, Izuku wandered into his room. He didn't even glance at his worried mother, Inko, when he passed her. She tried to get his attention, calling out for him. She was naturally concerned about his safety after hearing about the Sludge Villain, but Izuku paid her no mind. Her anxiety grew to new heights when she heard the scream of anguish erupt from his room.

Inko burst through the door only to find her son wailing loudly as he tore poster after poster of All Might from his walls. Her shock grew as he grabbed at action figures and other merchandise, throwing them, smashing them, screaming all the while. It was a complete reversal of his normally sweet and hopeful demeanor.

Inko rushed toward him. "Izuku! Stop! Stop this right now!"

Inko gripped him tightly as his temper of rage turned instead to an embrace of despair. She didn't know what was wrong and had no words for him but held him tightly with every ounce of maternal strength and love that she could muster.

Izuku's tears and saliva drenched her blouse as he erupted with the most heart-breaking cries she had ever heard, because she could feel the depths of her son's despair and was helpless as she stared into the deep chasm of his heart.

In time Izuku calmed down. And in that calm, there were tissues, there was comfort, but most of all there were questions. "Please, Izuku. Tell me what happened. Please, I want to understand."

It took a long time for him to find enough willpower to answer her. "I met All Might." Even whispering it out felt like too much for him, like just the name would break him.

Something deep in Inko's stomach knotted up when she heard the icy despair in her son's words. Her eyes cast around to the chaos and destruction that was once both a bedroom and a shrine to All Might. Suddenly she knew what was going to come next.

Inko's foreknowledge still did not prepare her. Nothing could.

"He's just like everyone else… all he sees when he looks at me is a worthless Quirkless…" Izuku couldn't finish the sentence. "He told me I would never become a hero." He broke again just repeating the memory in his mind. This time the tears did not come. Instead, something far worse surfaced from deep inside of him, like poison sucked up from a wound.

Kacchan had given him a way out of this despair. His best friend had told him to kill himself. "If you want a Quirk so badly, why don't you take a swan dive off the school roof and pray for one in your next life?" As hurtful as those words were, it was starting to sound like a good idea.

"He's right. They all are. Kacchan and everyone else at school. I'm just worthless." Izuku sobbed, struggling against his twin desires to accept his hopeless situation and end it all versus the conflicting will to survive.

Protective maternal fury consumed his mother as she gripped Izuku's shoulders, forcing eye contact with him. "You are worth everything in the world. You are my son. And I love you." There was a stern edge to her comfort, a warning sign against the precipice she feared he would explore. She often feared that the bullying he faced would break him, but to find out that the words of an adult were the last straw caused a fit of righteous anger to stir in her. For now, though, she placed that aside to focus on her son. His need for her outweighed her need for justice.

Slithering, creeping, whispering, a dark part of Izuku's mind told him that this was just something mothers had to say to protect their children. Strangers could afford brutal honesty. His eyes wandered around the destruction he had caused. All the rage and energy had drained from him and now there was only a hollow numb sensation in his heart.

All he wanted was to lay down. Rest. Sleep.

Die.

Izuku could not say that to her, could not utter these hidden thoughts out loud. Even now he worried what his own depression would do to his mother, or that she might stop him.

Didn't he want his mother to stop him? Izuku no longer knew.

{0}

For the better part of two hours, his mother coddled and comforted him. Together they cleaned up the mess of his room, taking tape and scraps of destroyed posters down from the walls. For all the wanton destruction, everything fit in two large trash bags. All that was left afterward was a plain undecorated room. A desk with a desktop computer, a closet with his futon and clothes, and not much else.

His room had formerly been an elaborate homage to All Might, but beneath the surface, it was a work of his own love and his dream of one day being like the man he admired so much. Now, with that dream gone, his empty room seemed to match the new plain reality of his heart.

Before leaving him for the night his mother crushed him in yet another deep embrace. There was comfort there, but also the sadly lowered expectations of a mother who would rather coddle her son than let him dream impossible things for himself.

It was only after she wished him a goodnight and had left that Izuku noticed he hadn't destroyed everything. His notebooks were still in his backpack. His notes on every Hero were meticulous. He cataloged their Quirks, their power moves, their strategies, and synergies. Izuku even drew out their costume changes over the years. An optimist would see these and want Izuku to sign up for business courses in Hero Branding and Marketing. Unfortunately, all Izuku could see was a dream forever out of his reach.

Izuku would never be a Hero.

As Izuku flipped through his old notes, he found a blank page right after multiple entries for All Might. The one Hero he had studied the most and admired the most. He always left pages empty when writing about him in case he found more material to write about later. He would always come up with more thoughts about his favorite Heroes, but All Might was a cut above the rest both in being the number one Hero and in captivating Izuku's imagination.

With his dreams no longer fueling his imagination, nothing new came to him. Izuku would never be as strong or as flawless as All Might. There was nothing more to write about him. Despite all of that, he picked up his pencil. The words just came to him before he was completely sure what he was doing.

"Dear Mom," he wrote. The rest of it flowed out like blood from an open wound.

{0}

Dear Mom,

I know that I will never be a Hero. Maybe I've always known. But my one wish right now isn't for a Quick to make me into a Hero. What I wish more than anything was that someone in my life had encouraged me to dream big and to try and become one, Quirk or no Quirk. If you would have been that someone, maybe I wouldn't have needed to focus so much on All Might. You would have been my Hero.

Dad isn't here, but you remind me that he is supporting us. You're here, but I wish I felt support from someone. So, when I met All Might, I had hoped that he would encourage me, even if we never met ever again. But when he crushed my spirit, I knew that not only would I never be a Hero, but that there was no Hero for me to rely on. I'm sorry mom, but I can't accept that.

That's why instead of going to school tomorrow I'm going back to the roof of the building where I met All Might. I've decided to jump off it. I am sorry, and I do love you, but I don't have the strength of a Hero to endure this anymore. I can't go back and be bullied for being Quirkless anymore by Kacchan and his friends. I can't sit through lectures where even teachers tell me I'm Quirkless and should focus on a mundane career. I can't do this anymore. Please forgive me. And please don't blame yourself. The sad truth is you didn't let me down. This isn't on you. Everyone in the world including All Might let me down.

I am sorry. I love you.

Your son Izuku.

{0}

He stared at his own words. Could he do this? Is this what he wanted? To die?

Yes, a dark part of him whispered to himself. It seemed to coil like a dark snake around his heart. Izuku allowed that snake to control him, letting it move his hands as though he were surrendering to autopilot. It forced him to grab for yet another notebook and flip to the right page.

It was a page he had written about Kacchan, Bakugou Katsuki. With his explosion Quirk, he'd be a powerful Hero one day, but with his temper, he was a bully and a source of abuse for Izuku all through middle school and high school. Bakugou would doubtless get into Yuei Daigaku (U.A. University) but would he help people? Really help them? Or would he just seek power and fame?

The shadow whispered to him, asking if any of the so-called Heroes were Heroes at all. Brushing the thought aside Izuku wrote another note. This one did not flow from his heart as easily as the one to his mother did, but on some level, he felt it was necessary. If Izuku was more honest with himself, maybe he would've known that what he really wanted was for someone to feel some of his pain. Unfortunately, he wasn't and couldn't be that honest. Instead, he buried the truth under layers of false altruism, as though he was thinking about the good of others when he was planning his own death.

{0}

Kacchan,

By the time you find this note, I'll have taken your advice. Don't worry. I won't jump off the school. I have a better plan than that. I hope you get into U.A. and I hope you become a better Hero than you were a friend. I always looked up to you. Please never treat anyone the way you treated me. I now know what it is like to have a Hero look down on you. Don't do that when you become a Hero.

Don't blame yourself. You're not the reason I'm doing this.

Your friend,

Izuku.

{0}

Izuku tore the two notes out and folded them up. He wrote a label on each, naming their recipients.

Was he really going through with this? Yes, Izuku assured himself. There was peace inside his soul once he accepted this decision. He found a kind of freedom in letting go. He could not and would not examine the opiate of that peace or the pain it hid behind the numb façade. He swallowed the pain.

After finding his resolve and burying his pain, Izuku he went to bed. He didn't have any desire to sleep but wanted to be certain that his mom wouldn't suspect anything. He knew that if he tried to leave the apartment so late at night that she would immediately figure out what he was up to and would follow him.

That would be fine if this were a cry for help. Yet this was no plea, no bargain for attention, the whisper of his own depression reassured him. Once more darkness coiled through his innards and uttered terrible words into his thoughts. What Izuku truly wanted right this moment was to die. He refused to examine exactly why. The disappointment and the bullying and the knowledge of his below-average mundanity were enough.

Tomorrow would be his last day alive. He hoped at least that the weather would be nice.

{0}

Sunrise that morning was accompanied by an obvious flash of green across the horizon that many people thought was beautiful. It made not just the local news but was featured internationally on various news and weather services.

{0}

There was a deep but pleasant melancholy to his morning when he woke up. Izuku's thoughts were dark and terrible, but he was at peace with the horrors inside of him. Today those horrors would end, and he would never feel this kind of pain ever again.

His mom made him his favorite breakfast and was extra attentive to him. It was almost enough to break his heart, to make him cry, and hold onto her and beg her to stop him from hurting himself. Izuku held firm to his plan, though, and refused to betray his hidden thoughts. He resolved not to cry again, and to make his mother's last memory of him one where he was smiling.

As usual, he left before she did. The mail had not run of course, but he stopped by their apartment's mail kiosk and slid his note for her inside their mailbox. Now he was committed. His mother wouldn't check until she got home later that afternoon. By then he'd have accomplished his goal.

First, he diverted from his course to school. His destination was the roof of a downtown building far enough out of his normal route that no one would look for him there. At least not until it was too late.

Before that, though, he had one more stop to make.

There was a grim determination guiding his steps despite his peaceful and almost happy façade. Izuku appeared to any casual onlooker to be a pleasant high schooler lost in thought. His focus and determination were born from swallowing down his hesitation and survival instincts. There was a war within himself and he was losing. With fatalism in his heart and eyes focused on his objective, he eventually found the Bakugou family mailbox and placed the note to Katsuki inside. He then strode onward to his final destination.

{0}

He never noticed that he was being watched by then. It wasn't difficult for Bakugou Mitsuki to spot Midoriya Izuku from her townhouse window. It was curious that he would come by their house long after her son Katsuki had left for school. The blonde woman's idle curiosity rose when, instead of coming to the door or looking for her son, Izuku went straight to their mailbox and placed something inside.

The boy was gone before she could think much more about it. She was still enjoying her coffee and was getting ready to head out to work. About half an hour later she was out the door and, on a whim, checked the mailbox to see what had been dropped off. She hesitated to open a note with her son's name on it, but the fact that this was in her mailbox and not a note passed in school lead her to overcome any respect she would have for her son's privacy.

Upon reading the note's contents all thoughts about going to work vanished. She got out her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts. The phone picked up in only two rings. "Inko. There's no time for pleasant greetings. Your son just dropped off a suicide note addressed to my boy. Where are you right now?"

{0}

The wind whipped silently through Izuku's hair. The view up here wasn't the best in Japan, but it was still great. Izuku wanted to take it all in before he climbed over the roof's safety fence. By now second period would be starting. The school might call him or his mother, but his phone was turned off.

Izuku had procrastinated here for almost half an hour. He figured he'd better start this before he lost his nerve.

Just after Izuku gripped the chain-link fence and started to climb, he felt a soft breeze from behind him and this time it was not silent but had a definite series of musical chimes to it. From his peripheral vision, there was a faint green glow for just the briefest moment. Instinctively he turned but stopped dead in his tracks.

Standing no more than four meters away from him was a tall woman of exotic and breathtaking beauty. Hairless from her head to her toes, her lavender skin gleamed in the morning sunlight. Her eyes were large and black, lacking any color or white to them. Her lips were full and wet with a dark red dye. Her cheekbones were highlighted with makeup made of ground gold and lapis. Gold had been painted to create both eyebrows and eyelashes, and the tips of each were sharp blue lapis. The same gold and blue adorned her skin in a series of exotic symbols. Her ears were pierced with three dangling earrings each which ended with small crystal bells.

Her breasts were full and were hidden by the barest of silk wrappings, held aloft by a gold chain around her neck. Sapphires and rubies adorned a gorgeous golden sash that linked the front of the chains, drawing further attention to her chest. Hooped bracelets and anklets clinked as she moved, setting off cacophonies of chaotic music. The thin strip of silk that hid her lower privates from view was held up by a single chain that clung precipitously onto her hips.

The barest breeze gave Izuku a glimpse that would scandalize any other woman, but this vision of beauty either did not notice or did not care. She truly was hairless everywhere. Izuku swallowed, his own spit suddenly thick and uncomfortable in the back of his mouth.

Even from this distance, Izuku was captured by her perfume. Honey, cinnamon, and a flower he could not identify wafted on the air and across his nose. He swore that her aroma hooked into his nostrils, demanding his attention. In short, every sense of his was filled with her. In a single moment, her beauty and allure had captivated him.

"Izuku of House Midoriya. I am Ahalmahlhat, and I am here to serve you." She bowed and rose in a long smooth motion, her arms winding slowly and gracefully like a dancer practicing for a recital, sending her bracelets and ankle rings into a discordant symphony. Her Japanese was eloquent but forced and formal. It was clearly not her first language. Her accent was barely perceptible, but it gave her quite a bit of charm.

"Alha…" Izuku stuttered.

"Ahalmahlhat, young master. It means 'She Will Serve' in a minor Fire dialect. The name was given to me by my mother, Berengiere, the Weaver of Voices. It was she who guided my training and set me aside from all of my sisters that I may serve you, young master." Her honeyed words were casual yet respectful, as though this was the most reasonable and normal and right thing in the world.

Yet nothing was right for Izuku. Now his plan to die was being prevented by a witness and one that knew who he was. "How do you know me… why are you here?" He choked.

"I know you because we have been watching you, young master. You and you alone in all this world are worthy. You and you alone have the potential to become the Shining Prince, the Hero this world needs, to set it right with its Creators." She raised a hand towards him and gestured him away from the fence that encircled the roof. She urged him to come towards her. "I am here to serve you, master, but first you must throw away this silly idea of yours." She said it with affection. There wasn't a single ounce of judgment or condemnation in her voice.

Despite the exotic woman's lack of reproof, Izuku felt an overwhelming amount of shame. Here was a beautiful woman trying to stop him from committing suicide. From her appearance it was obvious she was a Hero with a Quirk. No ordinary person could look like her. From her costume, she seemed less ashamed of her own body than Midnight, the R-Rated Heroine. Like a true Hero, here she was trying to rescue him, telling him what he wanted to hear.

Izuku, however, knew the truth. He would never be a Hero. "I'm Quirkless, miss. I'll never be a Hero. I know that. But… I can't live an ordinary or meaningless life. I just can't. I'll never be like All Might, or like you… or anyone that matters." Tears dripped wet from his eyes down his cheeks. His lungs felt empty as he sputtered his words.

Before his eyes, the woman transformed. Dark purple hair grew from her scalp at an alarming rate, and white invaded into the borders of her eyes only to be joined by sky blue pigment. Her skin slowly shed its lavender hue and looked closer to a light tan. Her breasts and hips shrank slightly. Izuku eventually realized that she looked like Midnight, the Hero he had just thought about. The gold and blue makeup remained in place, but now her eyebrows were real. Lines of makeup that were formerly painted directly onto skin now adorned the tips of her eyebrows.

Izuku realized that Alhalmahlhat did not look like a true replica of Midnight but rather an erotic imitation, a fantasy made real. He was caught between being impressed by her Quirk and being aroused.

"I am not a Hero young master. I am one of the Neomah. I weave flesh the way you would mold clay. I can only mold myself or any children I create according to what fantasies or substance my masters provide. Yet I am not like my sisters. I have never served any before you and will serve none after. I was prepared and trained specifically for you alone. You are Chosen." She bowed to him again, and he could barely believe the way she was treating him. "Please do not throw your life away, young master. I would debase myself further if only to extend your life."

She raised her head before standing straight again. "Does this form please you? I can weave your fantasy into my flesh to please you better. Is there any other way you'd have me appear?" It was clear she was distracting him from his own misery rather than forcing him to make promises or declarations about his original plan for coming here.

Despite Izuku knowing what she was up to, her plan was working.

Izuku threw his hands up awkwardly in front of him. Waving them back and forth, he stuttered as he replied. "No! No, you don't have to do that for me! Please, look however you want to! I… if the way you looked before is true… then you're already gorgeous!"

"Thank you, Izuku of House Midoriya. That was very sweet of you to say." She seemed to relax as her features reverted to the way she was before. Bald, lavender skin and large dark eyes once again met his gaze. "Does my true self put you more at ease? I had thought to appear to you as someone more familiar, but I cannot deceive you, master. It would not be right."

Izuku's cheeks flushed with heat as blood rushed here and there across his body. His breathing deepened as he took her figure in. His clothing felt itchy and tight. Some articles felt more restrictive than others.

The lavender-skinned woman's hips and breasts had enlarged to their original shape and size, and Izuku could swear that she was holding her hips out to the side with her stance just to appear even more enticing. "I appreciate you… I mean your honesty. You are going to a lot of trouble just for me. It's hard for me to think I could be that important to anyone, but seeing you here like this, looking like yourself and not someone else, makes me think you believe what you're saying."

When Alhalmahlhat smiled, Izuku felt butterflies in his stomach. There was a bounce to her step as she took one long stride toward him. There was still a great deal of distance to cross between them. "Every word I have said to you and every word I will utter to you from hereafter is completely true. You have been Chosen by Ligier, the Green Sun. You are to be promoted to one of the Exalted."

She threw her hands wide as she cast her gaze to the many sprawling buildings around them. "This world is lost and without the Shining Prince, it shall be lost to the lesser light of a stunted sun. Mortal shall squabble with mortal and meaningless lives will rise, fall, and endlessly repeat in a cycle of conflict no mortal can stop. But you, Shining Prince, can be the Hero that stops it all and sets the Cycle back to what is right."

Most of what she said had no meaning to Izuku, but one thing stuck out. "You said I can," he hesitated "become a Hero?" His voice cracked. His lips cracked and his mouth felt parched, yet it was not thirsting for water. Izuku, though captivated by the woman in front of him, wanted something far more important than any desire of the flesh.

Izuku wanted hope. He needed it more than air.

"You will be the greatest Hero this world has ever known." She nodded deeply, almost a bow. "The Creators, the Primordials, will gift you with their power and elevate you to join the ranks of the Green Sun Princes, who guide their worlds towards the Great Reclamation. The fight will be long, and it will be hard, but we believe in you." She held her hand out to him.

Izuku hesitated. This seemed too good to be true. "Why would anyone give me power like that? Besides, you can't just give people Quirks. No one can do that."

Alhalmahlhat laughed. It was a mirthful and joyous sound. The bells on her earrings jingled as her body seemed to erupt with joy. "Oh, young master. You are so naïve of how things work. I'm not here to offer you a Quirk. We've seen the powers of your world and we find them all lacking. What we offer you is a power far beyond anything your world possesses. And as to why…"

She walked slowly up to him and gently placed a soft warm hand against his cheek. She was taller than him but bent at her knees to place her eyes at his level. "We watched as you risked your life. You rescued your friend against terrible odds. You received no thanks and no reward. Those who you looked to for love and guidance have failed you, yet you rose to fight for what was right all the same. And who did you rescue but a bully who tormented you for years? Your battle reminded our masters of their struggle to save worlds that have long since turned their backs on the Creators, who locked them away only to forget about them or worse dishonor them."

Her smell was intoxicating. This close to him Izuku was overcome by a powerful spicy musk that her perfume both masked and enhanced. The paradox muddled his thoughts. "No one has ever believed in me before."

She held him in a gentle embrace. "I know young master. But I do. Our masters do. We believe in you. They could have chosen any of the billions in this world, but you are the Chosen One. You and you alone are worthy. Accept me, and accept our masters as yours, and you and I will become one. We will be a team that will overcome everything set before us. Lead, and I will serve and follow you all the days of your life."

Tears welled in his eyes, stringing with salt. He looked up into her large black eyes. "And if I accept you, I can be a Hero?"

She nodded gently. "Not just a Hero, Izuku of House Midoriya, but a Prince of the Earth."

Izuku wanted to ask her what her Quirk was. He wanted to know what she meant by this world rather than the world. He wanted to know how she knew to find him here. More than anything, though, he wanted to hope again, to feel again, and to have someone believe in him. "I want to be a Hero." He whispered it to her.

"To me you already are." She whispered back. And then she kissed him. It was a soft tentative thing at first, then it became deeper, a need expressed between the two of them. In all the eighteen years of Izuku's life, he had rarely admitted how much women fascinated him, preferring to openly focus on Heroes and his dream of becoming one. Ahalmahlhat woke something in him. A tiger that did not even know that it was in a cage before suddenly tasted freedom.

Izuku was drunk on her after only one taste. "Ahalmahlhat…" He breathed as she slowly pushed him down to lie beneath her. Sharp fingernails acted like claws. She was playfully destroying his clothing, but he was in no mental state to care. He had swung from the lowest point in his life to being embraced by an older and extremely beautiful woman who wanted him as her Hero. "I accept you."

Alhalmahlhat smiled sweetly, yet there was a sadness to it along with her joy. "Then let's begin, Izuku of House Midoriya, my Green Sun Prince."

Before Izuku consciously thought about what was happening, he was laying down on the rooftop as she straddled him. Moving swiftly, she devoured his mouth with her own and he held her in a tight embrace. Taking him, claiming him, she moved above him in a dance older than civilization itself, one that Izuku did not know yet was eager to learn. He barely had time to process the pleasure he felt as her hips gyrated above his, coaxing him expertly.

As their embrace deepened and their kisses became more aggressive Izuku failed to notice that her flesh became more and more pliant until it was too late. By then she melted to surround him, and everything vanished from his sight in a piercing burst of lavender and green light.

And then the world went dark.


	2. Whispering Darkness

Inko's world had come to an end.

Her son was out there somewhere in the city. He was alone, and he had a plan to kill himself. The call from Mitsuki three hours ago had Inko leaving the train station to head back home, then instead stopping at a park bench to call the police. Then she called the school. Then she called Mitsuki. Then the police again. Then she called work to let them know she wasn't coming in. She was a mess. Should she head home? Should she go to the comic bookstore? Where would Izuku have gone? Unfortunately, the note he had left for Katsuki, Mitsuki's son, had not revealed what his plan was. But it was clear: if she did not figure out his plan and find him, her son would be dead.

Inko's world had come to an end.

Suddenly her cell phone rang. It was Mitsuki.

There alone on a park bench, Inko's depths of sorrow were joined by an uncontrollable rage. "Meet me at my apartment. Bring him with you."

{0}

It was late in the first period when Katsuki's phone rang in his pocket. It was on vibrate. He moved his hand instinctively to press the power button, ending the call and sending it to voicemail. Defiantly, it rang again. Other students noticed and glanced his way, but no one said a word. Even worse, their teacher walked up to his desk. "Your phone is supposed to be turned off completely, Bakugou."

Katsuki grabbed it roughly from his pocket and glanced at it before holding it up for his teacher. "It's my mom. You want me to answer in the hall?"

His teacher grabbed the offending device. "No, your mother should know you're in class." Then he hit answer and held it up to his ear. "Mrs. Bakugou, to what do we owe this pleasure?"

With unconcealed malice, she answered, "Put my son on the phone, or you're going to be in the same world of trouble he's about to face."

The teacher turned pale as he handed the phone back, saying, "It's for you."

Before young Bakugou Katsuki could make a smart remark, he heard his mother shout through the phone. "Get your ass in front of the school now! No bathroom, no principal, nothing on the way! If you're not out here in two minutes flat, don't bother coming home again!"

"What?!" he cried out, but his mother had already hung up. Cold sweat gathered on his palms. He grabbed his bag and stood, ignoring the words of his teacher and classmates as he walked quickly out the door. Once out in the empty halls, he ran. He skipped his locker and went straight outside, and just as he surmised earlier, his mother's car was parked in front of the school gate. The engine was still running.

He expected her to say something smart and mean as he got in, but the cold silence was worse. It continued long after she got the car moving, and he couldn't stand it anymore. "What is this about? What's going on?" He could barely contain his frustration.

His mother's temper was usually a hot boil, but this cold demeanor scared a part of him. "You told your classmate Izuku to kill himself, didn't you?" she asked. The words came out slowly.

Katsuki was stunned for a moment. "Stupid Deku doesn't know when to quit. What did he do, cry to his mom or something?" His attitude roared back to life after just a momentary hesitation.

"No," her words were like ice. "He took your advice, you piece of shit. We're trying to find him before he kills himself."

Darkness descended on Katsuki's world. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He. What did he do?"

Mitsuki gripped the steering wheel hard as she made a right turn. Her knuckles were white with the strain. "He left a note. It's addressed to you. I read it, and unfortunately, you can't have it. I'm not giving it to anyone but his mother. He left it in our mailbox." As she continued to speak, his world seemed to shrink. "Oh, and he doesn't want you to blame yourself, just to ask you to be a better person and not treat anyone else the way you treated him. Isn't that nice of your childhood friend?" Her biting sarcasm made him feel dead inside.

Katsuki couldn't stand this helpless feeling. "So, he's going to kill himself just because he's Quirkless, just because of me? That's so weak. So…"

His mother's backhand across his face shut him up. "You idiot! Don't you realize what you've done to yourself? You will never be a Hero after this! What Hero course in this country would accept an applicant who's implicated in someone's suicide? You didn't just tell him to kill himself. You even offered up an idea of how he should do it! You told him to jump off the school! How fucking stupid can you be?!" The car swerved dangerously in her rage. "If that boy ends up dead, you'll be lucky if all you wind up with is a menial job to pay off the funeral costs!"

His cheek stung, but it was worse because it was his mother. She'd usually smack him on the back of his head or something. She had never hit his face before. "I never thought he'd actually do it." It was almost a whisper.

She calmed down a bit. "Once you uttered those words to him, you put your career in his hands. You didn't just prod him to end his life. You offered him your future so it could be cremated with him. All I can do now is wonder how I raised a son that can say he wants to be a Hero but ends up being this unfeeling, this mean, and this stupid. Frankly, even if he's alive and you get off free and clear from your stupidity, it won't be because of you deserving anything. You certainly can't look yourself in the mirror and call yourself a Hero. What kind of Hero tells a kid to kill themself?"

Her words hurt worse than her backhand. Katsuki had nothing to say.

{0}

Inko checked the inside of their apartment to see if Izuku had gone home, but there was no sign of him. He had been gone for three hours now. He could be anywhere.

He could be dead.

She thought about calling his father, her husband. He deserved to know, but with how far away he was, there was nothing useful he could do. She didn't want to consider the kind of phone call she might have to make to him when Izuku was eventually found.

She shook the thought out of her head and wiped away the tears so that she could stop and focus. Mitsuki would be here any minute. Her son would be with her. As angry as Inko was at the kid for driving Izuku to this low point, right now, he was the only real lead that they had. There had to be a reason Izuku left a note for his bully, something that would tell them what his plan was.

She walked down the stairs to wait in front of their apartment building. She got there just in time to see the mail truck pull up to the kiosk for the entire block's mailboxes. For what seemed like hours, she sat there next to the kiosk while the man standing next to her went on with his mundane task of filling each of those boxes. It was disheartening that the entire world would keep on going, apathetic to her pain or the life of her child.

"Miss? Miss Midoriya?" the man asked her.

She turned, barely able to see him. Tears blurred her vision, unable to vacate her eyes.

He walked up to her and handed something to her. "It seems someone left you a note."

"Mom," it said on the folded exterior. All hope and despair in the world filled her as she muttered a thank you and began unfolding the page. On one side was a series of notes about All Might. On the other was the note to her. The weight of her son's words crushed her. She had failed him. She had tried so hard for him, but she pushed in the wrong direction. Even with all her good intentions, it was clear that she had never given him the words of encouragement that he had needed.

Even as she hated herself, she could hear the words that she should have said.

Izuku, the road in front of you to your goal is not an easy one. You have no special powers, no Quirk, to help you stand out. You will find doors shut in your face all the time. People will judge you because of the way you were born. But if you work harder than anyone else, do more than anyone else, then you can do this. It won't ever be easy, and you will be told to quit repeatedly, but if you shut those voices out and make this your mission, then you can do it. It will cost you everything to do this without the advantages that others have, but I believe in you.

Her face was wet with sorrow over words she had held back, believing they would have done more harm than good. Looking down at Izuku's written farewell, she had to wonder what more harm could there be than this?

However, there was still a painful ray of hope. His plan involved the building where he met All Might. If she could find that building, she may be able to save him from himself. The only chance Izuku had now was that his friend, no, that his bully knew where that building was. If Katsuki helped her save her son, she would forgive him. If not, she would spend the rest of her life making his life a nightmare.

After an agonizingly long time, Mitsuki's car pulled up. Hurriedly Inko got up and pulled herself into the rear seat behind Mitsuki. Mitsuki wordless reached into her pocket and passed a note back to Inko. Now having both notes, a clearer picture formed in Inko's head of what her son was going through. That would help her assign blame, but that wasn't useful now. She had to focus on finding him. "Katsuki, tell me where Izuku met All Might yesterday."

Both mother and son of the Bakugou family whipped their heads rapidly to face Inko behind them. "Izuku met All Might yesterday?" Mitsuki asked. "I knew about the Sludge Villain incident, but this is news to me."

Katsuki grumbled only briefly. It had taken a long argument to get his mom to relent and let him go to school instead of to a hospital to get checked out. Deku rescuing him was a low point of his life. "Unless it was near the attack, I don't know where it could be. It was near the park east of here." He pulled out his phone's map application and thumbed through it manually until he pinpointed where the attack happened. As the mechanical voice began giving directions, the three of them fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry, Miss Inko," Katsuki said.

Inko said nothing in response. Mitsuki didn't either, but she was glad that she didn't have to tell him to at least try to apologize. She only worried that it was too little and too late.

{0}

They had been driving for twenty minutes and were near their destination when they saw it. A large explosion. Several seconds later, they heard the roar of the blast. It had come from one of the apartment buildings north of them. Inko had an excellent view of it, and something in her heart knew that her son was near that explosion. She felt part of herself die at the idea that he had been either caught in or even the cause of that blast.

Shrapnel rained down from above, pieces of fine brass lit with green fire. Wherever they struck, they let off noxious fumes. Bits of the strange metal fell like a pelting of arrows, each reflecting the garish green of the fires erupting in the area. Car alarms blared. Some poor people unlucky enough to be walking down below were caught in the fallout of the blast and had to contend with fire and metal from above. It was a scene out of some hellscape. Calls to emergency services rang out from multiple phones.

If it was this bad here, then up close, it had to be an absolute nightmare.

"Step on it, Mitsuki, we have to get over there before the police set up a road barrier. There's no time!" Inko wailed. Despite how crazy this was, Mitsuki complied, making a sharp left turn and breaking traffic laws in the process. Then they got a much better view.

His mother had to focus on the road, and Inko couldn't see through the car's ceiling, but Katsuki had a front seat view of the hell they were heading into. Billows of dark yellow-green smoke rose from the apartment complex in front of them. Arcs of violet electricity shot out randomly from the epicenter of the fire. It was clearly on the roof, but it wasn't clear if the building itself was in danger of collapsing, if the fire was descending into the building itself.

"Mom," Katsuki began, but he didn't continue speaking. He hoped to somehow convey the urgency without betraying his inner fear.

His mother grimaced. "Think of it as paying Izuku back for rescuing your ass yesterday."

His eyes darted back and forth, glancing at her and Miss Inko in the backseat. Both women had a determination that he hoped could infect him as well. He faked it for now. "Yeah, got to pay him back. Then we'll be even."

Inko said nothing. Even was a foreign concept to her now.

{0}

Sakamata Kugo, otherwise known as Gang Orca, was not the first Pro Hero on the scene. He was the fourth. The first, if you counted them as one, was a team of lower-ranked Heroes called the Fire Supporters. They often acted in concert with firefighters when a fire involved multiple rescues or simultaneous hostilities such as a Villain attack. The second and third on the scene was Mount Lady accompanied by Kamui Woods.

It took more than three hours for the fires to be put out and the injured to be placed in ambulances. This effort was complicated by debris that continued to reignite. It even burned asphalt and concrete. Thankfully, each fire was small, but their heat was extreme. There was also fine dust laid across the area that was not typical ash for an explosion of this kind. It was metallic, and there was a danger even to the uninjured of breathing it in.

None of that, however, was why Gang Orca was called in.

There were several extreme complications to this fire, beyond the fire itself.

The first complication was a pair of mothers who recklessly drove onto the scene and tried to make their way into the building through the fire escape. Naturally, they were fighting against the flow of human traffic, as many were exiting by that method. To make matters worse, the teenage son of one of them got separated from the older pair during the chaos and was presumably somewhere in the building. The worst shock, though, was that the other mother claimed that her son was on the roof of the building, where the fire had started. Her assertion was both alarming and unlikely, but it had to be checked out. Meanwhile, the building had to be searched top to bottom for the errant teenager and any other that hid rather than evacuate.

The second complication was far more worrisome. Even with the fire under control, the Heroes were quietly evacuating the entire apartment complex. The Fire Supporters had found something disturbing on the roof. A massive shell was lodged into the building, slowly crushing the structure beneath it by its sheer weight. It was made from the same green-hued metal that had exploded outward at the start of the fire, and based on the blast pattern etched into the roof, it was the source of that explosion. Violet arcs of power shot out as the thing seemed to grow, thankfully becoming less and less frequent now that it was so massive.

Worse, the shell was giving off radiation. It wasn't a lethal dose unless someone stayed too close for too long, but even that was alarming. There was speculation within the team that this was some kind of Quirk-made nuclear device, and the earlier explosion was a prelude to something much worse.

It was the latter problem that Gang Orca was called to investigate. There was no rush to disturb a potential bomb, and the exterior seemed impervious to any attempt to pry inside. Orca's sonar was the only thing anyone could think of to figure out the interior of this device. Despite the danger to himself, he had to place a hand on the outer shell as he guided sound waves, getting an accurate reading as she unleashed repetitive waves of sound. What he saw inside through his echoes disturbed him.

This wasn't a nuclear device at all. A person was trapped inside this thing. Worse, there wasn't much air inside at all. They were suspended in a mostly viscous liquid. By his estimation of the heart and breathing rate of the unconscious young man inside, the poor lad would eventually suffocate to death or drown. The chamber appeared airtight, and he credited the hibernate state of the boy as the only thing keeping him alive.

Stepping away and walking to the edge of the building, he addressed the only person around who could help. "Mt. Lady, we have a situation but not the one we feared."

Bending low so that her massive frame put her eyes at the same level as Orca, she addressed him. "So, what is that thing?"

He flexed his hand that had touched it. It was still unbearably warm. "There's not a detonator. Instead, there's a kid trapped in there. His heart rate and breathing are slow. It's airtight, and he's running low on time."

She contained her shock professionally. "What's the plan?"

{0}

Bakugou Katsuki was hiding in an abandoned apartment. He had no idea who lived here, but they were in such a rush to evacuate that their door was wide open. After closing the door, he rushed to the restroom and washed his face. The sand-like ash in the air made breathing difficult outside. He felt it coating his skin. It was warm to the touch but abrasive and gritty. There was a pale sheen on his arms where the sand had gathered.

Suddenly the lights went out. The temperature in the room dropped. Katsuki felt the hair on the back of his neck rise with alarm.

"Bakugou." He heard a breathy whisper as though a mouth pressed uncomfortably close to his ear. He spun around, but nothing was there.

"Who's there? Stop hiding, you bastard." He growled into the darkness of the apartment.

He looked around but saw no one. The dim light from the windows of the living room gave just enough illumination to prove he was alone. He knew Kamui Woods was prowling the building looking for anyone left behind in the evacuation, but he didn't want to be found. There was no way he'd let Deku show him up. If Deku could rescue him, then he could save Deku's sorry ass.

There was mirthless laughter coming from a shadowed corner of the room. Katsuki rushed over in a rage and knocked a chair aside. It was futile, though. No one was there.

"He's gone. Deku is gone." The whisper continued from another corner of the room.

The room lit briefly as Katsuki let loose an explosion into the center of the room. In his fury, he forgot that the noise would attract attention. His eyes alight with impotent rage, he watched shadows dance across the room to escape the light, but still, he saw no one. The shadows rushed forward as the light of the explosion retreated, ensnaring into the grooves and valleys of the young man's muscular frame, the folds and wrinkles of his clothes. "I just wanted to thank you for giving him to us."

"Who are you?!" Katsuki shouted into the darkness.

Suddenly the shadows of the room deepened, growing almost thick before his eyes while the light from the windows dimmed. Cruel laughter filled the room. As quickly as it arrives, just as suddenly it was gone. The shadows receded, and Bakugou Katsuki was alone dripping with anxiety.

Then the door burst open. The Hero, Kamui Woods, stood outside. "Alright, kid. Let's go. We have too many problems to worry about you trying to hold it out in here." He held out his hand to help the young man to provide solace, but no comfort could reach him. Bakugou Katsuki had failed to even find Deku, let alone rescue him. Instead, he had blown his cover and was to be escorted from the building.

"Have you found another guy my age? Green hair, just a bit shorter than me, a bit on the shrimpy side of the weight scale. Freckles. Anyone like that?" He had to ask.

The Hero's stern but sad expression while he slowly shook his head somehow made Katsuki feel even worse. It felt like a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, Deku wasn't even here. Just maybe, Deku was safe elsewhere. A gnawing part of him knew that it wasn't true, that his friend was here, and the explosion from earlier could mean he was in a hospital or worse by now. For the first time in his life, Bakugou Katsuki truly hated himself. It wasn't the casual hatred people have for themselves for short periods as they bemoan their failings but a more deep-seated revulsion. "I had to ask. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try, right?"

The professional Hero put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I know, son. I know."

No. There was no way he could know.

{0}

Inko's feelings of coddling indignity combined with bitter helplessness. At least she wasn't sipping on hot chocolate like some of the other evacuees. Inko fumed silently as she stood with her friend Mitsuki in the public park. There were throngs of people gathered. Many had their phones out taking pictures and videos, but others were just worried about their possessions or their pets.

Unless someone they knew was in the hospital, no one here was worried about a family member. Everyone was accounted for. There were injuries, true, but no one was worried about whether their missing child might be dead.

At least not here at the park. A more rational part of her mind told her that those families who had more severe trauma were already at the local emergency room.

In addition to the disaster-survivors were support crews offering supplies and food, news crews trying to get the latest for their viewers, and members of the public who wanted to sate their curiosity. It was this last group that attracted her notice at the moment. Many of them were not recording but watching something on their phones. The phenomenon spread outward to eventually include those among the evacuees who lacked the level of anxiety held close to the breast of their other neighbors. "Mitsuki, do you see what's going on over there?"

The two of them were looking out from one of the Support Corps vans where they had been allowed to sit until news of their sons could be ascertained. Mitsuki perked up from where she was staring off at the stairwell Katsuki had disappeared to. Turning to her friend, she eventually noticed the trend herself. "That's odd," was all she could muster.

Inko stood. "I'll let you know what it is. Be right back." She walked over towards the nearest phone-holding video-viewer. Looking over the young man's shoulder, she gasped. Pulling out her phone, she ran back to Mitsuki.

"What's going on, Inko?" Mitsuki didn't know whether to have hope or fear when she asked.

"Izuku's on Youtube! Maybe we can figure out where he is!" Inko's excitement masked her fear. She had no idea what horrors she was about to watch.

{0}

Hours before in the building across from the one Izuku was standing on there were many apartments that had an unobstructed view of the teenager. It was a taller building by several stories, completely blocking the view south. One such apartment was a studio with a single woman living by herself. Her name was Kumiko, and her American boyfriend was visiting.

To Kumiko's annoyance, he was recording.

"Okay, everyone: this is Kumiko, my girlfriend. She's an upperclassman of business studies at Yuei Daigaku, that's U.A. University for the rest of you uncultured Americans," he narrated as he filmed her. Even though she displayed mild irritation, she also found it adorable.

"Are you going to film our entire visit together?" she asked, almost wanting to hide behind a map of the city she had printed out for him. Her dark hair framed a face that, though partially hidden, showed sparkling eyes that betrayed a concealed smile. "Or are you giving up medicine for photography?" she teased.

Steve, her tall blonde boyfriend, gushed with pride. "Hey, I bought this camera just for this trip. I want everyone back home to see how amazing you are. A little phone camera just doesn't cut it. But don't worry, after this, I'll only have it out when we're doing the whole tourist from America routine, okay?"

Kumiko rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go capture the amazing view from my apartment then. Then you can put that away, and we can plan all the sights I'll show you today, and where we can eat." The sarcasm in her voice was affectionate. She didn't enjoy looking out her window to see nothing but other buildings. She would have preferred it if her view was on the other side of the building, but the rent was higher due to a view premium that she could not afford.

He laughed a little as he acquiesced. "That is my girlfriend, folks: super organized even when we're having fun. But I wouldn't change a thing about her. Go ahead and draw on the map babe, I want a shot of our route when I get back from the window."

She laughed. "You're impossible; you know that, right?"

He laughed back as he went out to the small balcony and took in the view, panning the camera across the buildings that surrounded them. "Impossible to resist, you mean, kinda like this view."

She sighed. "Now, I know you're bullshitting."

There was a hitch, a lurch in his posture. For the first time, he was not steady while holding the camera. "Um, Kumiko? Kumiko, come here!" The urgency in his voice that had her running to the balcony.

"What is it?" she asked. Kumiko had to stare to figure out what her boyfriend was pointing at.

"That guy is trying to climb the safety fence over there. I think he's going to jump. Get the police on the phone." He spoke out calmly, yet his nerves were betrayed in the underlining sound of his voice. He focused the camera, zooming in on the young man. "Oh god, he's a high schooler."

The camera clearly showed a dark depressed face covered in freckles and topped with an unruly mop of green hair matched by his eyes. He had made it just under a meter up the fence and showed no sign of stopping. "No kid, don't do this. Kumiko, are they coming?"

She stood next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hang on… Yes, yes, please come. There's a boy on the roof of the building across from me! He's climbing the fence. We think he's going to jump. Please…" She listened to the voice on the other end of the line. "Okay, Steve, I have to stay on the phone, but they're on the way…"

That's when everything got strange.

{0}

Inko gasped in shock as she watched the tiny screen in her hands. Behind her son, grains of sand gathered as if on the wind, and before her eyes and exclamations of amazement from cameraman Steve, a figure appeared. Objectively she was beautiful. The woman did not rise from the building or teleport in, so much as get pieced together bit by bit. A green glow suffused around her as the sand coalesced into her shape, as though soldering her together atom by atom with a million tiny sparks of power and life. Just as quickly as she was put together, the glow ceased abruptly, as though she had always been there. Sand crusted on her bare feet and spilled onto the roof around her as she strode forward into existence. A veil covered her face, which she cast away before speaking. Her lips moved, but the camera did not capture her words.

Although the cameraman and his girlfriend were both awestruck at this woman's appearance and ability to manifest from thin air, their commentary became annoying to Inko when the woman transformed before their eyes into the spitting image of Midnight, the R Rated Heroine. Even Inko had to concede that the woman was beautiful, but she frankly did not care. All she was trying to figure out was where her son was and if he was still alive and healthy.

Yet amazingly, Inko watched as this woman successfully convinced Izuku to step away from the fence. She started breathing again, not even aware that she had stopped. Only then did she feel Mistuki's hand on her back as the other woman watched over her shoulder. Together they observed in fascination and horror as the triumphant revelation that Izuku was alive was quickly replaced by the macabre sight of this older woman and what she did to him. That an older woman would physically prey on her son in his weakest moment was beyond nightmarish. This had to be some form of assault under some law somewhere. Then it got much worse. "No!" Inko caught herself screaming as the woman maneuvered Izuku to lay down on the roof with her on top of him, and then as she smothered him with her kisses and other outrages, she began to melt.

There are no words to describe the emotions a parent goes through while they watch their child smother and drown. Pain and anguish serve, but there is a deeper primal state a loving parent reaches when their senses show them that their child is in danger. Inko had to contend with these emotions and simultaneous helplessness of knowing this was filmed hours ago. She had nowhere to direct the adrenaline and suffering she was enduring. Instead, she had to watch transfixed while her son was encased in liquid, which then expanded and hardened into a brassy green conch-like shell. The ensuing explosion of material after it was complete was alarming to watch, as was the debris that erupted onto the apartment scene the two lovebirds were filming from. Yet for Inko, what mattered was knowing that her son was trapped.

Midoriya Inko suddenly knew exactly what she needed to do.


	3. The Promise

The logistics of this operation required perfect precision. It would be impossible to crack open the "Kumiko Shell" without putting both the building it rested on and the inhabitants of the surrounding city block at risk. Therefore, they had to transport it to a safer location, and only then could they crack it open to rescue the young man inside, who they temporarily named Yamada Taro.

They also needed to keep information packed down tightly, thus the name "Kumiko Shell" as opposed to what they initially labeled it: Nuclear Shell. They could not hide that it existed, and thanks to the video going viral around the globe and broadcasted on international news, could not contain the story of the hostage inside of it. Thankfully, there was no suspicion of the nuclear nature of the Shell. At least not yet. They knew that doctors at the local hospital were already following radiation protocols while trying to prevent a panic. The clock was ticking.

To make matters worse, the Shell seemed to have some form of awareness. It set off smaller explosions around itself at their prior attempts to move it. This was not only dangerous and frustrating but mystifying. The Shell didn't eject any material, nor did any opening appear to vent any explosives. Sand simply coalesced into the air around it before exploding with green fire, sending burned brass shrapnel in all directions. Their only relief was that the explosions only occurred when someone tried to push or otherwise disturb the Shell. Gang Orca's sonar did not seem to trigger the reaction, and he confirmed the boy inside was still alive even after the most recent of the explosions.

The first phase of the plan relied almost entirely on Cementoss, the Cement Hero: Ishiyama Ken. With his unique geological Quirk, he was to build a sphere of reinforced cement around the Shell so that they could transport it safely. The casing would need vent ports so that if the Shell released another explosion, it would not send the cement sphere outward as shrapnel. Unfortunately, this would massively increase the weight of the Shell and likely cause the collapse of the building. Therefore, the plan called for a pillar of cement underneath the Shell. They needed to build it in advance of the sphere's construction.

Once surrounded, it would be up to Mount Lady, Takeyama Yu, to lift it and transport it to the harbor. Indeed, there were other heroes strong enough to lift the Shell and the concrete around it, but Mt. Lady would be the only one who could both lift it and avoid putting too much stress on the building. During transport, they expected that the Shell would release multiple explosive rounds. The Fire Supporters, led by the hero Backdraft, would be on standby throughout transportation to prevent and mitigate damage on the route. Thankfully, the entire course was evacuated in advance with a series of road blockades, to avoid any traffic or civilian casualties.

Once at the harbor, they would load the concrete sphere onto the Oki Mariner along with two more passengers: Gang Orca and All Might. Then they planned to take it to one of Japan's most remote islands, and there All Might would crack open both the cement sphere and the Shell in an attempt to rescue the lone hostage. If the Shell's defensive behavior was any indication, the explosion unleashed once the surface was cracked open would be significantly worse than the initial detonation when it formed earlier that morning. No one wanted to think over what that could mean for the passengers or the crew of the Oki Mariner.

However, there was another set of complications that none of them could have foreseen.

{}

The van was marked NHK. There were several other news crews, but this was the news Inko turned on every night. She marched right up to a crewmember of the news team. There were no cameras on at the moment. They all seemed to be waiting for something exciting to happen or to get any updates from the professional heroes, but they certainly weren't waiting for a civilian to march up to them. They had finished collecting eyewitness accounts quite some time ago.

Inko simply held up her phone. It displayed a paused video, focusing on a fairly close up image of Izuku climbing the safety fence before that woman appeared. "This is my son in this video." She kept the message simple and direct to gauge their reaction.

At first, the camera and sound men barely seemed to understand her. Then a woman opened the front door of the van abruptly and almost jumped out. She was dressed professionally, which contrasted with her rabid eagerness. "You're the mother of the boy inside the Shell?"

Inko nodded. "I want to be able to get closer to the Shell, but for now, I'm excluded to the general population from the evacuation. My son is inside that," she paused, considering her next words. Each word felt painful to say. "He's trapped in that thing, and I want to know if… I want to know that he's alive, and I want to know what the plan is to get him out."

The newswoman outstretched her hand with her business card. "I'm Toyo Airi. It's a pleasure to meet you. Let's take a seat together and do a dry run of an interview. What's your name, ma'am?"

"Midoriya Inko. Thank you for your help. Please take care of me." Inko bowed, and the reporter returned the gesture. "After the interview, will you be able to get me up there?"

Airi gave the older woman a comforting smile. "We can try, Miss Midoriya. We can try."

{}

Katsuki found his mom. They hugged without any of the awkwardness he had felt about it since growing to be a young man. There was unspoken gratitude between them that both of them were still alive and well, that they were lucky to still have each other. Neither of them wanted to continue dwelling on Katsuki's responsibility for the mess they were in.

"Are you ok? You were in there a long time." Mitsuki's warmth and concern sharply contrasted with the tough love she administered earlier that day.

"It was weird. I think that the explosion earlier caused tricks in the way shadows look in the building. It was creepy." He did not elaborate. "And then Kamui Woods found me."

With a sad expression, Mitsuki handed her phone over to her son. "We found Izuku… sort of."

Katsuki was shocked and briefly was relieved. However, when his mom didn't elaborate further, he feared the worst. Holding the phone up, he pressed play on the video. Katsuki recognized Deku on the roof above. Cold dread spread through him as he watched his friend ascend the fence on the outside perimeter of the roof. His fears became muddled, then replaced with confused arousal.

Yeah, he was supposed to focus on Deku, but that woman that appeared was smoking hot. Every curve of her body was a fantasy that played across the back recesses of his mind. With a body like that, he did not care that she was bald. And then, when she transformed, it opened whole new worlds of possibilities in the hormonal crevasses of his imagination.

All of that was drowned out with stunned shock when she began to tear Deku's clothes from his body and administered soul-scorching kisses across his lips and his face. Just as he started thinking that stupid Deku was the luckiest bastard in the world, shit got weird. "Holy shit…." He uttered as she melted across Deku's body, trapping him beneath her.

Katsuki's breathing became more rapid as his lungs demanded more air. He felt like the Sludge Villain that had attacked him just the day before had wrapped around him again, suffocating him, paralyzing him. He watched Deku go limp under the translucent fluid and could easily see himself in that situation.

"Can't breathe," he muttered. Katsuki thrust the phone back into his mother's hands as he turned to walk away, unable to finish watching. He did not look back as she called out to him and did not see as she stretched out an arm towards him.

He didn't come back for over an hour. Katsuki didn't say where he had gone or what he had been doing, and she did not ask. There was no way he could confess that he found a dark alley and cried. He could not explain his bloody fist from punching the brick walls in that alley. He could not find the strength to admit how guilty he felt, how terrible. He did not cling to the same hope that Deku's mother was holding onto, the vain belief that Deku was alive.

Instead, Katsuki stubbornly finished the rest of the video when he got back. However, he found no real hope in it. His friend's body was trapped in there, but the Shell had formed around a liquid core. There was no way after this much time that Deku could still be breathing.

The shadows that haunted him were right. Deku was gone.

{}

Yagi Toshinori had not felt guilt this palpable in a very long time. All Might, the Symbol of Peace, the Number One Hero everyone looked up to: at this moment, he felt like a fraud. Yesterday he had a choice to encourage a young man with true heroic spirit and potential, to do for him what his predecessor had done and to make him the next recipient of One for All. He considered it, tempted by the prospect. Midoriya Izuku had shown the correct moral fiber and indomitable spirit needed to be the next Symbol of Peace.

However, he held back and instead told the boy to give up on his dream.

At the time, he told himself it was a necessary sacrifice. To choose a successor whose Quirk would one day incorporate itself to One for All, he decided to let Young Midoriya down. Unfortunately, it wasn't until now that he saw the inherent selfishness of that choice. He chose to sacrifice the hopes and dreams of a young man who had nothing but hopes and dreams to hold himself together. For what lofty greater good did he sacrifice Izuku on the altar? Simple: to favor a sight-unseen youth who had been lucky enough to be born with the right Quirk.

Watching the Youtube video and recognizing Izuku from yesterday was painful enough. That, though, was nothing. Watching his mother's dry run interview tore Toshinori's heart out.

"All Might was his inspiration, the man he most wanted to be like," she said.

"Was?" Airi asked in response.

Midoriya Inko's eyes darkened. Toshinori knew that look. The anger and rage of those eyes were unmistakable, all of it caused by deep intolerable pain. "That was before he met All Might yesterday."

The look on Airi's face was one of deep concern, but Toshinori caught the worry in her eyes. "What happened when your son met All Might?"

Fresh tears wet her cheeks as she spoke. "You have to understand that my son is Quirkless. He's been bullied all of his life. Still, he never got angry, never wanted to get back at anyone, never allowed himself to be beaten down."

Inko paused with a moment of horrifying self-reflection. "No, it's worse than that. No one encouraged him to chase his dream. The one thing he always wanted was to be a hero and to save people. Somehow, he even endured it when I would tell him that being a hero wasn't possible for him. He kept on believing in himself and his dream."

Toshinori's heart broke when he heard what she said next. "There's no way All Might knew any of that… but when he told my son that he couldn't be a hero… my son broke. The boy that came home no longer wanted to be a hero. He was just… all he wanted was to die." She broke down crying, and Airi moved to comfort her.

"Are you sure you want to see the rest of this?" Airi asked him over his shoulder as he stared into the abyss of her phone's screen.

"I have to. I owe it to that young man… and his mother." He was stern, yet it was clear that his anger was self-directed. Toshinori watched the horror unfold. He learned about the notes. He realized that Izuku planned to jump off the building after Toshinori told him he would never be a hero. Too late, he knew in the depths of his soul that he had made an irreparable mistake. He had broken an unbreakable spirit, and he had done it for a selfish desire to see One for All grow more powerful.

Toshinori grimaced when it occurred to him that All for One would have been "proud" of his decision.

"Airi, I need a favor."

{}

"Hello, I'm Yamada Ken with NHK. Welcome back, those of you who have stayed with us on this story. And for those of you who are just tuning in: an unknown Villain Attack has devastated the city of Musutafu." Segments from the now-trending Youtube video filled the screen as the narration continued.

"What began as an act of desperation was thwarted by an unknown pursuer. Two eyewitnesses corroborate that the woman with the teleportation Quirk seen here was pursuing the young man through the streets of Musutafu below before his ascent to the roof of this apartment building," he began, stating a neutralizing spin on the events of the day.

"Here, the young man is seen desperate to escape his pursuer, yet chose to surrender rather than risk his life by extending the chase," he continued, showing a short excerpt of the video. "Her subsequent conversation with him, where she talked him away from the roof's edge, was short-lived, however, as the unidentified woman attacked the young man."

The video shifted, skipping the erotic nature of the woman's "attack" to focus on her melting across Izuku's body. "She then, through the use of an as yet unknown Quirk, liquified and trapped him inside a metallic shell. Upon formation, the Shell unleashed a series of explosions into the area, raining down fiery shrapnel onto vehicles and pedestrians below. Heroes assisted the authorities in the evacuation of all buildings within a city block and are hard at work to resolve the situation."

The video shifted to drone footage of the Shell itself. "We have learned that fifty-three people have sustained injuries. Hospital authorities have deemed seven such cases to be critical, but have reported no fatalities at this time. The young man in the now-trending video has been identified as Midoriya Izuku. He is a senior at Musutafu High School. He is registered as Quirkless but is an applicant at six different Hero Programs, including the prestigious Yuei Daigaku Hero Program. We have an exclusive interview with his mother, Midoriya Inko, conducted by Toyo Airi."

The view shifted to a camera at the park near the incident, where Toyo Airi help a microphone out towards Midoriya Inko. The bottom of the screen identified her with the subheading: Mother of Midoriya Izuku (Trapped in the Uknown Shell). "Miss Midoriya," Airi began. "Thank you for joining us today. Is there anything you'd like to share with us regarding your son?"

Inko took a calming breath. She had been prepped just beforehand by Airi about the eyewitnesses accounts of Izuku flight from his pursuer. This was the first she had heard of it, and it caused her to lose her emotional balance. She lost track of every talking point they had discussed during the dry run interview. "Yes, thank you. I came here today hoping to find my son after he... ran away from home." She paused on her words, finding it impossible to admit her son's suicidal ideation on national television. "I know from a letter he wrote that he came here because this is where he met All Might yesterday." Again, a calming breath. "I'm glad that he didn't jump, no matter how much he needed to escape. This is terrible, not just for us but for all of these people. I know that it's selfish, but I just want to know if my son is alive and what the plan to get him out of that thing is."

Airi gave her a conciliatory smile. "I'm sorry for what you are going through, Miss Midoriya. You'll be pleased to know that we've received a statement from the Professional Hero Association that Gang Orca has conducted a sonar investigation of the Shell and that your son is, in fact, alive." She placed a reassuring arm out to lightly touch Inko on her arm. That light touch became a steadying arm as Inko seemed to lose balance.

"Oh, thank God. Oh, thank God." Tears visibly washed down Inko's face.

Airi continued. "We're also being granted permission to have you come with us to the temporary headquarters for the rescue operation with a correspondence pass. It seems All Might wants to have a word with you personally."

At this, Inko seemed genuinely shocked. This woman must have taped the dry run of their interview and sent it onward to the Hero Association. She could have had a salacious story with a grieving mother placing at least a chunk of blame at the feet of All Might, the Symbol of Peace. Instead, she chose to maneuver this situation to be helpful and to get Inko the one thing she wanted most: involvement in her son's rescue. "Thank you…" She cried. "Thank you so much."

She lunged forward, hugging the other woman tightly.

"Back to you, Ken." Airi signed off.

{}

Mitsuki almost fell over at the receipt of a simple text. "He's alive," was all it said. Inko then continued. "Gang Orca's sonar proved he's alive. I'm being allowed into Hero HQ to learn about the rescue plan. Thank you for helping me today. I will never forget this for as long as I live."

"Mom?" Katsuki grew concerned watching his mother almost cry while reading her phone. He came over and read over her shoulder. In a move that surprised her, he embraced her tightly. She could tell that he was having trouble holding back tears of his own.

Deku was alive.

"You're going to get my blouse wet," Mitsuki teased, still holding onto her son.

"Shut up," he said, holding her tighter.

{}

"This is getting more and more interesting," said a tall, well-dressed figure standing behind a bar. He was mixing a martini as he spoke. His shadowy features flowed smoothly as he worked.

"Annoying, but interesting," the ashen-faced man sitting near him spoke up. Even though the conspirators were safe in their hideout, he obscured his features with a hand that clung to his face. "I want us to learn everything we can about that Purple Woman. From what I can tell, she has at least three Quirks. Teleportation, Transformation, and then that Shell Bomb trick. For now, the Midoriya family is the only lead we have on her." He lifted the palm of his obscuring hand-mask to sip at the martini once he said his piece.

The shadow behind the bar countered with his observations. "The fact that she targeted a Quirkless teenager is odd. Even stranger is she targeted one that was about to commit suicide," he said, slicing through the official story with nonchalant dismissiveness. "Why would she do that? To what end?"

The pale-faced man smiled. "Maybe it wasn't his demographic profile… maybe it was something specific, or even personal. Either way, let's do our research. I want to know everything there is to know about Midoriya Izuku," he paused, taking another draft of his beverage. "He's the bread crumb trail that will lead us to the Purple Woman."

The shadowy figure did not bother correcting his companion regarding his overly simplistic view of the color spectrum or how to apply it when naming a stranger.

{}

The command center was a converted apartment in the building across from the rooftop where Izuku was trapped. From here, Inko had a clear view of the Shell, even though it was still far away. Seeing it with her naked eyes rather than through a screen was horrifying. It was massive, far larger than her tiny phone earlier would have let her believe. The thing had to weigh several metric tons at least and was approximately three meters and almost as wide.

She'd heard it described as having some similarity to a conch shell, but this twisted metal structure was far more nightmarish than that description would have suggested. It twisted at painful-looking angles, appearing both huge yet tightly cramped. It was almost physically painful to look at, forcing the eyes to trace along sharp edges and unnatural bends. Jutting out from it at odd angles were green-hued metallic spikes. Each seemed to glow with malicious energy.

"Miss Midoriya, thank you for coming," a deep yet calm voice spoke behind her. She turned away from the monstrous cage that trapped her son and looked at the tall, muscular figure of the man he had idolized his whole life. She wanted to hate him, wished she could slap him, or even to blame him. However, she couldn't.

Inko knew deep down that All Might's words, whatever he'd said that hurt Izuku, matched her own, words she had spoken far too often to her son. He was just the last straw that broke her son under the weight of the world. She, as his mother, was a whole metric ton of that weight.

Inko extended a hand in greeting, choosing to look him in the eye. "Thank you for having me."

To her surprise, the Symbol of Peace bowed low to her, his face downcast to the floor. "I apologize, Miss Midoriya, if my words to your son yesterday caused him or you any pain. It was not my intention, and I accept responsibility for the hurt I have caused. I am truly sorry."

Inko suddenly knew without a doubt that Airi taped the dry interview and that All Might had seen all of it. All the same, she was somewhat grateful that he was willing to take such responsibility like this wholeheartedly. Even so, it still didn't seem right. "Please, stand," she said. "Let's just talk for a bit."

The fact that she had to crane her neck back just to look him in the eye annoyed her, but it was basically what she had asked for. "You're far from the first person to tell my son not to pursue his dreams. The truth is, I'm the worst offender. You didn't know him. To you, he was a fan, just a kid, but I don't have that excuse. I'm his mother, and I should have encouraged him. I only found out today that he applied to those Hero courses. Oh yes, he also applied to the universities that I hoped he would go to, the ones where I helped him with his essays and his applications… but those he did on his own without me knowing. That was the kind of young man my son was: someone who never was going to give up…"

Inko took a long breath to steady herself, to avoid crying. "Help me bring my son home safely, and I will finally give him the encouragement that he's needed his whole life."

With grim determination, All Might placed a hand on her shoulder. The sheer mass of his arm should have weighed her down, but his touch was light and careful. "I promise to bring your son home to you no matter what it costs me. You may be very forgiving of me, and I thank you for it, but I will bear the responsibility of my words."

She had to wipe a tear away. "Thank you… for being a good role model for my son for so many years." Inko could not bear to share the pain she felt when she found her son the night before destroying everything that reminded him of All Might.

"I'll try to be a better one for him. I promise." He seemed deadly serious. She had to wonder why he was regretting this so much. Did Izuku downplay just how harsh All Might had been to him?

The intercom near them suddenly blared to life. "This is Cementoss. I am in position at the lowest survey marker, directly below the Shell. I am ready to begin."

Again, it buzzed to life. "This is Mount Lady in position west of the Shell."

Another pause. "This is Gang Orca, in position with the Fire Supporters. We're on the roof, ready to begin."

All Might picked up the intercom from the Support crew and gave the order himself. "Cementoss this is All Might at Temporary HQ. You are cleared to begin the operation. Operation Eggshell is go."

Inko looked up at him. There was so much hope emanating from him it seemed to fill the room. She had heard some of the details of the plan. She knew they were going to make a concrete sphere around the Shell before picking it up and moving it elsewhere to crack it open. It was cautious, but that only made her feel better. It was a good plan. It was going to work.

Izuku was going to come home. Everything was going to be alright.

{}

In less than a few minutes, everything had gone horribly wrong.

Once signaled to proceed, Cementoss created a base for the cement pillar that would eventually extend up through the building. It would cause a great deal of structural damage on the way, but he could account for that and have the pillar act as temporary support for the surrounding structure. He felt terrible about the possessions within the apartments that the pillar would tear through, but given that this was a rescue operation that could not be helped. He spared a glance at family photos on the wall of the apartment he was currently in and prayed that nothing irreplaceable would be lost.

Unfortunately, he never got it tall enough for it to extend past the third floor. Thankfully his instincts were good because he was suddenly in genuine danger. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw wisps of green energy and whirling sands solder together. Unfortunately, it was not some lavender skinned beauty that coalesced near him but a hulking brutal creature. It was ape-like, with tough red leathery skin and dark coarse hair on its long arms. It uttered a deafening dual-tone roar at him, both a piercing scream and low rumbling at once. Just as quickly as it formed, it began to attack. He threw up concrete barriers, and it tore through them like fire through paper. Over and over, it continued the assault as he beat a tactical retreat.

"This is Cementoss. I have enemy contact. I repeat enemy contact," he shouted into the comm system. Cementoss ran outside only to see more sand floating through the air. Mount Lady was running towards him only to trip as another creature like the first formed at her feet. It stood its ground and used itself as a falling hazard. No sooner had she braced herself to fall onto her hands and knees, the creatures swarmed around her. Seven more monsters appeared to join the previous two.

Cementoss finally got a good look at them now that he was out in the sunlight. Their eyes were as red as their skin, and their fur was to composed of small sharp quills. More alarmingly, they were armored and armed. Their backs and chests displayed tough-looking green-hued brass breastplates, and they wore some form of gauntlet or vambrace on each arm. These ended in long punch-daggers. Worst of all, they were huge. Each creature had to weigh half a metric ton.

While the beasts swarmed he and Mount Lady, Cementoss was grateful that All Might was nearby. However, his earpiece lit up with more unwelcome news. "This is Gang Orca. We also have enemy contact."

Cementoss cursed under his breath. Everything was going from bad to worse. Thankfully, Mount Lady was strong enough to be a significant threat to these things. He moved to support her, but one of the beasts flanked him to cut off his aid to her.

That's when one of them barked out orders to the others in a language he had never heard before. He knew then that these attackers were sentient and organized, a dedicated military unit. This realization was terrifying when he saw what they were doing: as more sands floated through the area, a team of the beasts reached out to grasp at it as links of a long and terrible chain formed in their outstretched paws. Cementoss knew he had to do something, or else they would use that to restrain Mount Lady.

Thankfully, a large oak branch reached forward to grab one of the creatures out of nowhere, chain and all, flinging them to the side. Kamui Woods had been waiting in the background and chose now to enter the fray. His actions bought enough time for Mount Lady to stand up while Cementoss used his powers to repel several of the creatures. However, the fight was far from over.

"This is All Might. I can see the enemy leader from here standing next to the Shell. Unless anyone has an objection, I am moving to engage." He spoke to all of them via intercom.

Mount Lady didn't even use the com system. She simply shouted. "Go kick some ass All Might. We'll do the same down here."

Cementoss noted there was no reply from Gang Orca or the Fire Supporters. If the enemy leader was near the Shell where they were, then All Might had to have determined their need for aid was significantly greater than the heroes here on the ground. It was a sobering thought.

{}

Inko watched the proceeding alongside Airi and her news crew with paralyzing horror gripping their spines. Far below them, the indomitable Mount Lady had been tripped and found herself swarmed by monstrous ape creatures. Cementoss and Kamui Woods came to her aid, but they were all significantly outnumbered.

All Might was shouting orders to the Support crew to "Bring everyone: every hero in range. Call every agency if you have to one by one." The urgency in his voice was frightening to hear.

Despite their dire need, All Might couldn't just jump down there to help them, as one might expect. On the roof, Gang Orca was caught entirely by surprise, as were the entire Fire Supporters team. Creatures manifesting from thin air is not something they had ever thought of, much less prepared for. Due to this unexpected catastrophe, they were outmuscled and outmaneuvered on the rooftop of a seven-story building. Backdraft and the Fire Supporters were ill-equipped to handle the creatures emerging from nowhere, and Gang Orca was also faring poorly. Although there were five heroes on the roof, the seven creatures that manifested were organized and well-armed.

That was when She appeared.

Though imposing, she was small compared to the creatures at her command, no taller than perhaps two meters in height. A wispy cloud of black hair trailed behind her, which she capped with a golden wolf eared crown. Below that was a pale face with blood-red eyes similar to the creatures at her command, an eagle-like nose, and a grim set of lips painted a reddish-brown by dried blood. Her armor was black and hugged her body protectively, tightly. At her sides, a great sword and broad ax hung on her hips. Where the woman that assaulted Izuku earlier was a figure of eroticism, this woman, by contrast, was a pure terror.

Immediately upon stepping forward from the sands that formed her, she raised her hands to either side and unleashed two explosive blasts towards the heroes where they stood, corralled by the hulking brutes surrounding them. Shrapnel and green fire rained down on them with enough force that Inko feared them all dead. They fell to the rooftop and did not stir.

"This is All Might. I can see the enemy leader from here standing next to the Shell. Unless anyone has an objection, I am moving to engage," he spoke to the heroes below by comms. He did not share that Gang Orca and Backdraft were down and possibly dead. The blow to their morale would be lethal, that much was clear. The loud roaring response of encouragement from Mount Lady did not stir the confidence of the Support Crew the way it should have.

Inko watched helplessly as the red-eyed woman pointed through the window towards All Might from the rooftop across from them, then gestured for him to approach. She was smiling, and the facial expression seemed predatory. It was clear that even though they were across an entire street and in an apartment that she knew exactly where the temporary headquarters were.

"Help will be here soon. I will keep my promise. Your son is coming home to you," All Might spoke to her reassuringly. Before Inko could reply, he ran through the glass of the balcony before jumping across the street. He jumped towards the creatures, the red-eyed woman, the fallen heroes, and the twisted Shell where Izuku was trapped.

With a lead weight in her heart, Inko remembered that All Might promised to bring her son home. No matter the cost to himself.

"No matter what it costs me," she whispered his exact words to herself as tears streamed down her face.


	4. She Who Stands in the Threshold

All Might barely had time to take in the situation once he landed on the roof. He could scarcely perceive that the other heroes were still breathing, but they were each completely unconscious and had multiple burns and lacerations from the close-range explosions from earlier. What was worse were the multiple enemy combatants he'd have to get through to attempt a rescue. He wouldn't be able to get a single hero to safety before taking out the entire enemy squad. If it were just the large ape-like creatures, that wouldn't necessarily be a problem.

However, their commanding officer was a significant threat, the kind he'd only encountered several times before in his life. Her ability to summon explosions did not seem to be limited in range. If her weaponry at her hips were any indication, she was also a formidable close combat opponent. Perhaps he could overpower her with his strength, he hoped.

"You are the one called All Might, correct?" she asked, forcing him to refocus from analyzing her combat abilities to studying her face. Her blood-red eyes had no pupils, no whites, but instead, as he looked deeper, he saw beyond the red of her eyes to catch a glimpse of stars across a crimson sky. The warrior-woman smiled at him, revealing that her teeth were all sharpened canines made of iron. She was beautiful, not in a conventional sense, but how a bird of prey is as it swoops for a kill, a marvel of natural and indifferent killing efficiency.

"I am," he spoke sternly, standing up straight. He briefly hoped a negotiation could take place.

"Good. Command your squad to break off their attack, and you will all be allowed to retreat. Resume your hostilities, and we will no longer hold back. Your ignorance will no longer be an excuse to let you all live." Her accent, while thick, did nothing to hide her contempt. She wanted him to ignore her words, to attack her, giving her the excuse she needed to kill him. Her eyes flared with killing intent, the kind reserved for pests. He imagined she wanted him dead just for daring to even be on this roof with her.

All Might possessed years of training for hostage negotiations, so he knew enough that despite the thinly veiled promise of peace, her choice of words troubled him. Still, he hoped to buy time for the Support team to bring in backup. "Our attack? Do you mean the rescue operation?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Do not honey your words. You blatantly sought to encase the Prince's Chrysalis in your primitive mortar. You arranged transportation for the Prince and sought to break open the Chrysalis once you finished abducting him. I will never allow this." She leveled the words at him the way he had thrown the crimes of many villains back in their faces.

All Might ground his teeth against each other. Did she believe that he and the other heroes were aggressors here?

Despite his internal objection, her choice of words revealed a litany of questions for him. Chrysalis? Prince? Could their intention towards the young man be more than malicious, perhaps benign? He dealt with abductions before, where the kidnappers honestly believed the child in their custody was better off with them. Rarely were they right. However, if their motivation was even partially benign, he might be able to use that. "The Shell behind you is giving off dangerous amounts of radiation, and the building below us will eventually collapse under the weight of the Shell. It's dangerous to let it rest here on the rooftop."

With barely a shrug, she dismissed his worries. "The power of Ligier is toxic to lesser beings such as humans, but that is not my concern. The Prince is my charge, and the Chrysalis falls under my protection. It shall not move, nor be moved by the likes of you." Even through her thick foreign accent, the imperious nature of her words was undeniable. This woman wholly expected obedience, thoroughly used to giving orders.

All Might could see this was going nowhere. But still, if he could buy more time for other heroes to arrive, then his numerical disadvantage would be relieved. "If I may be so bold, my lady… you have me at a severe disadvantage. You know my name, but I do not know yours." The politeness of his voice was thick. Hopefully, she wouldn't detect his speech's forced nature due to this not being her first language.

To his surprise, it was one of the massive creatures that spoke up. His voice bellowed out between giant teeth. "You address She Who Stands in the Threshold. She is Sondok, Warden Deva of Ligier the Green Sun, Guardian of the Treasure Forges of Malfeas, Mother Commander of the Erymanthoi, and Veteran Godslayer of the Traitor Wars. You will show her the respect she is due." The creature beat his chest with a single upraised first after his introductory speech. A clamorous ring of metal on metal rung out as gauntlet met breastplate. It was not the mindless gesture of an animal, but a single punctuated act. The message was clear: show our commander respect, or we will kill you.

Sondok, the lady in question, raised a pacifying palm towards the creature. She uttered words for his benefit in their native language that All Might had no hope of understanding. This was not Japanese, Chinese, English… it wasn't even recognizable enough to identify what continent the language was from. A strange fear crept inside of him. Her curious words began to click into place. Humans, she used the word humans.

Were these creatures next to her human? Did they share a Quirk that transformed them into the same breed of monster? The odds were astronomically small. Quirks were like fingerprints, each one unique. Even within families, Quirks that were inherited had subtle variations. Yet each of these creatures exhibited the same power. Part of him suspected this had All For One somewhere behind it, but even when he wanted to find a connection, there wasn't a clear one to be found.

The conclusion All Might was arriving at seemed insane. "Lady Sondok," he addressed her with more formality. "You and your… soldiers. You aren't from this world, are you?" Even as he asked the question seemed ridiculous.

Her predatory smile was disquieting. "No, All Might, we are not."

{}

Todoroki Shoto had been home for several hours. He could smell his sister's cooking as the aroma filled the entire house. It was distracting him from his training, which his father was quick to point out. Originally, he and his father were supposed to be training their Quirks outside, throwing fire and ice at each other with abandon. However, today Shoto's father had a different training regimen in mind. Today, Shoto's task was lowering the ambient temperature in their living room without displaying any ice. His father, Enji, otherwise known as Endeavor, would use his Quirk to raise the room's temperature, opposing Shoto's effort. The exercise wasn't about power but instead about focus and control.

Distracted despite himself, Shoto wanted more than anything to go and sit in the kitchen and talk to his sister. The routine they had built up over the years was painful. Every day she would come to the house and cook their dinner, then Shoto's lunch for the next day, and then after they ate together, she would leave. That was all the time he got to spend with her anymore. Ever since she moved out of the house, opportunities to connect dried up. As ice formed under his fingernails, he clenched his jaw and wished that something would happen so that he could spend an ordinary afternoon doing everyday things. He wished earnestly that his father could leave him alone long enough just to let Shoto breathe.

Enji's phone rang in the kitchen. Eventually, the sound stopped. In its place, the percussion of Fuyumi's footsteps echoing through the hall leading from the kitchen to the living room. "What are you two doing in there?" she wondered aloud before sliding the door open. A cloud exited the room, drenching her face as it passed her. Her expression of damp exasperation did not match the resignation of her tone. "Dad, the Hero Association is calling for you. It sounds important."

Enji barely made eye contact with her as he stood. "Enough, Shoto, you did well today." He spoke to his youngest son as he strode across the room towards his daughter, who held his phone out for him. Taking it, he turned away from both of them and spoke to the man waiting on the other end of the line. "This is Endeavor. What's the emergency?"

Both Shoto and his sister knew better than to talk while their father was on the phone with the Hero Association reps. Usually, these calls were tense, but this time somehow seemed worse. "Terrorists? Musutafu, the city on the coast of the Yuei Prefecture? Calm down and slowly explain."

Whatever Fuyumi was making in the kitchen seemed unimportant to her compared to standing next to Shoto and listening with him to their father's side of the conversation. "All Might… is facing those kinds of odds alone? That's almost two hours from here…" He straightened up, nodding. "Who else has been called in?"

Their father paced the room nervously. He was sweating. Shoto watched, in awe, that he, Endeavor, the Hero of Flames, was sweating. "I understand. We'll continue the briefing on the way," with that, he signed off the call and turned to face both of them. The look on his face wasn't stern or angry but etched with worry and something Shoto did not recognize.

"Shoto, Fuyumi, I'll be heading out soon. They've sent a helicopter to pick me up. I'm sure you heard, but terrorists attacked an apartment complex in Musutafu. Five Heroes are badly injured and currently in terrorist custody. There's also a civilian hostage." He paused, working out what to say next.

"Dad," Fuyumi began but faltered. Shoto said nothing.

"I have been strict on all of you. Because of that, I have regrets." He said. "I regret not using more time to show you that I love you." Both of his children were shocked. This admission seemed so out of character for him. "If… if this mission causes me not to have a chance to tell you, your brother, or your mother… then please tell them for me. I love all of you."

Shoto listened to the helicopter's approach as it rapidly closed the distance to their back yard.

"I am proud of you," Enji smiled at them both before turning towards the screen door and took his leave of them. Neither of them knew what to say or do as they watched him ascend into the vehicle that before it rapidly accelerated towards the horizon. Just like that, he was gone.

Shoto followed his sister awkwardly into the kitchen, where she served dinner. They would typically share small updates about their lives at times like this, but at this moment, neither had anything worthy enough to take their mind off of their mutual thoughts. Breaking with the household protocol, he turned on the television and switched channels to the news while they ate. Only then, as the flat screen droned on at them and the siblings saw the images, the sheer gravity of the situation finally seemed real to them.

The brass shrapnel, the green fire, and now images of giant aberrant creatures out of some strange nightmare swarmed together to take on such heroes as Gang Orca and Mount Lady. Worse, these things were winning. They were cunning, organized, as well as obscenely strong and fast. Their teamwork reminded Shoto of exercises he endured on training camps his father enrolled him in every school break.

However, he was distracted from the screen and the news by movement next to him. Too late, he realized that Fuyumi was crying. She became a sobbing wreck. He reached out to embrace her comfortingly. "It'll be ok," he said reassuringly.

She shook her head. "When was the last time dad told us he loved us… that he was proud of us?"

Her question caught him off guard, making him think he had misread her emotions. "It's been a long time, sis."

Her grip on him tightened. "He's not sure he's going to come back, Shoto. He doesn't know if anyone is coming back, not from this."

Shoto glanced back to the screen, showing a drone's footage of All Might surrounded on the roof while speaking to the terrorist in charge of her cell. Everything seemed dwarfed by the strange Shell that dominated the rooftop. He regretted wishing for his father to leave, but he put those feelings aside and rested a hand on the back of his sister's head. "He'll come back. He has to. We didn't tell him how we felt, and he needs to hear it, so he'll come back."

It was a childish reply, one that only worked in stories. Unfortunately, it was all Shoto could think of as the two watched helplessly from the comfort of home.

{}

Recovering from his shock at her answer took longer than he would have liked, but he pressed past as best he could. "Lady Sondok, thank you for allowing us to take our people back. I'll arrange their transport," All Might began, but Sondok cut him off.

"No one else will be allowed on this rooftop or within this building until the Prince finishes his tasks. You may carry them back one at a time," she said, giving him permission that felt more like a command.

He clenched his jaw. He needed just a bit more time for reinforcements before he was comfortable taking Sondok and her cohorts on. Unfortunately, he also was running lower and lower on his power's time limit. He felt like a candle burning at both ends. "Finished with what? What is young Midoriya doing in there?"

She placed a hand affectionately on the surface of the Shell as though it would respond to her love. "He is dreaming… dreaming of the Creators and their wonders. When he awakes from this dream, he will forever be ours. Our Shining Prince." As she turned her face towards All Might, he could swear the stars that hid beyond her eyes shone even brighter than before.

A full range of emotions swept through him, but more than anything, he was disgusted. He didn't understand fully what young Midoriya was going through, but Toshinori had made a promise to the youth's mother. He intended to keep it. "He needs to return home to his mother."

Anger flashed across her features like a sudden storm. "The one who denied his potential? The one who allowed him to be mistreated by other children and comforted herself with platitudes of polite cowardice rather than forge her son to be strong in his own right? Or perhaps I should release him to the great hero who was complicit along with her and every other authority he ever looked up to or relied on in casting him aside? The one whose essence fades from his injured body even as he tries to buy more time with me. The one whose lesser exigence is about to snuff out without another to bear up the torch."

She raised an arm threateningly toward him, pointing at him. "You all relinquished your claims to him. You all threw him away. If Ligier had not chosen him, he would be dead. Dead! But Ligier, unquestionable in his wisdom, chose Izuku of House Midoriya to be the next Shining Prince! He is, as we speak, gaining powers beyond anything your world has ever seen. When he emerges from the Chrysalis, I will escort him to the Eternal City of Malfeas, where he will train for his new calling. So, take your pathetic gifts and platitudes elsewhere. Find some poor excuse for a terrestrial and pass on your sad exigence to them." As she continued speaking, a sneer of disdain grew across her face. Her contempt for All Might was obvious.

Her observations shocked him to his core. Sondok knew his secrets just by looking at him, and she blatantly did not care. To her, he was just an inferior being, at best the apex of what the local wildlife had to offer. Despite her dismissal, her designs for young Midoriya made his blood run cold. The young man was doubtless going to be trained by these people… these things… to be a rampant killing machine. "Tell me this much, please… what will his mission be?" All Might spoke somberly, darkly, already knowing the reply to expect.

Her sneer never left her face. There was no need for her to hide the brutal truth from a being she had no regard for, a thing unworthy of respect. "Prince Izuku will conquer worlds in the name of Malfeas, just as every Prince from every world before him has done."

She did not need to elaborate further. Although he had no idea what kind of world she hailed from, All Might could see in his mind a clear picture of what they were doing. Find a local, give them power, and then turn them into a weapon to conquer the world they came from. It was a strategy used by empires throughout human history, the basis of feudalism itself. Their goal here was just a prelude to world conquest. He did not need to ask her how many troops they had or what kind of army he and mankind were up against. The answer was obvious: they were billions in number, and their variety was staggering. How else could she claim so casually that other Princes had conquered worlds already?

All Might paused when he realized that something wasn't adding up. Her plan was not a foregone conclusion. He almost had it figured out. Then it dawned on him: if she had no regard for humans, there was no need for her to spare the heroes that had fallen or for her to even speak with him. Something was holding her back. Did he dare test her further to see where she drew that line? Was he running out of time?

Just then, the communication device in his ear buzzed to life. "All Might, this is Eraserhead. I'm in the headquarters behind you. The enemy leader is in my sights. The first wave of backup has arrived, and we are waiting for your signal. Endeavor is leading the second wave and will be here in ten minutes. Don't speak to reply. We know she is listening… and the Support crews have been picking up everything she's said so far."

Nothing else needed to be said between All Might and Eraserhead. They both understood the implication of Sondok and her words. The entire world was under a countdown to an imminent threat. Midoriya Izuku was no longer just a hostage. He just became a contested piece in a war against an enemy no one had ever heard of before, but the odds did not look good. "Lady Sondok, I have only one last question for you."

Sondok's eyebrow twitched.

"What happens if Young Midoriya decides to be the hero he always dreamed he would be?" All Might knew what she would say, but there was always the slight chance that the enemy would show a human side.

Her smirk enraged him. "Unfortunately for you, Princes are chosen heroes… but only when their dream gets broken. He will never go back to that."

All Might's fists clenched hard enough to cause him severe pain. They completely underestimated the young man's willpower and dreams, just as they had done to who knows how many 'Princes' before him. And worse, they prey on those dreams just as they break. And All Might had unwittingly handed Young Midoriya over to these monsters!

This could not be allowed to go on.

{}

All Might rushed forward with a burst of speed faster than most eyesight can follow. A thunderclap of noise followed as air rushed to fill the space he formerly occupied. His power and speed were obscene as he forced his body forward and focused all of that strength behind his fist.

Sondok stepped only slightly to the side and used her forearm to redirect All Might's fist away from her before turning the palm of her defending arm toward his face and unleashing explosive green fire in his direction. As he backed away from the blast, he felt bladed shrapnel cut across his left cheek and jaw. He was lucky not to get any in his eye.

Her soldiers did not move, and even still, they awaited her command. They had no concern that she was in any danger at all. Sondok similarly did not seem bothered. Instead, she slowly crossed the distance between them after his hasty retreat. "Poor naïve creature. Did you believe your friend could seal my power?"

All Might had bet that Aizawa's Quirk would do precisely that, but there was no way to be sure until they tried. He prepared himself and his fists for combat. Her movements earlier told him that she was a martial artist who could redirect her opponent's motions, and she was strong enough despite her size to take him on in a fight. Sondok also had the advantage of summoning explosions at will. Even more frightening were the facts that she had yet to draw her weapons and that she did not fear igniting a blast at point-blank range, despite her vulnerability to the explosion. Even now, the cuts that formed on her hand and face healed completely before his eyes. Just how many Quirks did she have?

With no choice but to close the distance, he charged forward; the element of surprise utterly lost. "Now!" He shouted, fully committing both himself and his companions to the battle ahead. They needed to win for their comrades, for Young Midoriya, and show this expedition force that their world would never go down without a fight.

{}

"Go now!" Aizawa shouted through the airwaves to each of their earpieces. His Quirk had just proven useless against this foreign enemy. Neither the enemy commander nor her soldiers were susceptible to his Erasure Quirk, which would typically seal any Quirk user's active powers he kept in his sights. Yet not only had the enemy parried All Might with ease, but she blasted him with her explosive Quirk. The implications of that were frightening.

However, he couldn't let that slow him or the team down. He would need to get out there and use his martial arts and binding equipment to immobilize as many of these creatures as possible while the rest of the team focused on backup and rescue operations. Already, he saw Ingenium running on one of the building's exterior corridors towards the stairs leading to the roof. If anyone could speedily grab up the injured heroes on the rooftop and bring them to safety, it was Ingenium: The Turbo Hero.

The lower backup team, lead by Best Jeanist, would act as relief for Mount Lady, Cementoss, and Kamui Woods. Those three had done well to last as long as they had, but with these creatures' raw power and their numbers, they were doomed to lose by sheer attrition. Now, the odds were far more favorable, with a half dozen more professional heroes entering the scene. Once the heroes resolved the battle below, the rooftop fight could be everyone's primary focus.

That still left the enemy commander, "Sondok," to deal with, a threat unlike anything Aizawa had ever seen. It would have been best if the battle hadn't started until Endeavor and other top heroes arrived. Then she could be beaten by a combination of sheer numbers and a variety of attack Quirks. Unfortunately, there was no time to wait, not for Gang Orca, not for Backdraft, and not for the rest of the Fire Supporters.

Eraserhead slid the glass door of the apartment he watched from open and unfurled his long binding scarf toward one of the ape creatures on the roof across from him. Once caught on the arm, he had the beast's full attention as well as several of its companions. He made a valiant show of trying to pull the creature towards the edge of the roof, and as expected, instead, it used its superior mass to pull him hard enough that he could make the jump to the other building. He smiled grimly: finally, something had gone according to plan today.

{}

The sound of several rapid explosions awoke gang Orca. Everything in his body hurt. His face was wet, and he vaguely understood that he was lying on a puddle of his blood. Harsh burns and fine lacerations covered his body. He reached out through the roof floor with his sonar and was relieved that the other heroes with him were still alive. All of them were injured, but by some miracle, no one died. Not yet.

Just then, he was aware as several of the gigantic creatures lunged towards him threateningly before they found themselves caught up in harsh bindings. It was then that he was forcibly picked up and carried over the shoulder of an armored figure. It took him too long to figure out it was Ingenium. It should have been obvious, but his injuries were making him delirious with blood loss.

"You're heavy," was the only greeting he got from his rescuer. With that, Ingenium moved again with blinding speed, running them both straight down the side of the building.

Gang Orca lost consciousness again, barely regaining it later to see he was lying on a sidewalk several blocks away near a crowd of civilians. Recovery Girl held his hand. His eyes turned towards the frightened public. Before passing out again, his last thoughts were filled with concern for those still fighting and embarrassment over not fighting alongside them. A gust of wind passed over his face as Ingenium arrived once more with another hero over his shoulder, but darkness engulfed his senses before he could see who it was.

{}

All Might threw a powerful punch toward his left, knocking the hulking brute that charged him clean off of the roof towards the street below. These things he could handle. They could absorb the shock of his punches and come back for more, but Toshinori could overpower them and knock them back far enough that they couldn't swarm him. With Ingenium keeping them off balance and Eraserhead binding small groups of them, he could focus on Sondok.

She was an opponent unlike anything he had ever faced before. Every villain he had gone against had a master plan, a selfish goal that served their own interest. She, however, was a creature of military precision. She dictated and regimented her actions from a sense of duty and pride, and judging by her fighting style, Sondok was a veteran of more battles than he was. All Might was stronger than her but just barely. She, on the other hand, had far more hand to hand combat experience. He had yet to land a single blow as she dodged and deflected every one of them before landing her punches, kicks, or explosions on him.

This was a battle of attrition, and he was going to lose.

All Might needed to do something to change this battle's tempo, to force the confrontation away from the slow bleed of his power. It had occurred to him after she threw his secrets in his face that she probably knew he could only keep up this muscular form for a limited amount of time. It was as if Sondok could read all of his weaknesses like an open book titled How to Beat All Might. If their combat stretched on much longer, he would lose out his strength, and she could finish him off in a single blow. His promise to return Young Midoriya to his mother would be left unfulfilled, his death nothing more than due penance for tearing the young man's dreams down the day before.

All Might was not about to let that happen.

He heard the telltale sound of Present Mic's ear-shattering Quirk from down below. The confusion of battle reverberated all around them. The scent of blood and acrid ash filled the air, mingling with the roar of beasts and the shouts of men and women, each fighting their hardest. One side fought for duty and the other for the survival of their comrades. It was clear that the battle's tide was turning in favor of the other heroes, but All Might was losing to the enemy commander. Once she took him out, he did not doubt that she would make short work of the other heroes, one by one. From the predatory gleam in her starlit eyes, he knew she would take a strange sense of pleasure in it.

He could not let that happen, not when they were so close.

All Might took a concussive blast to his face and fell backward. "Do you see now that your power is the apex of an anthill? Your world is small, and your powers, while many, are weak. You have amused me while rescuing your companions, but press any further, and I will grant my soldiers the permission they need to kill."

He still did not know why she was holding back. If they had no regard for human life, why hold back at all? His gaze fell on the Shell where they had Young Midoriya trapped.

Then he understood. "You're afraid of him, aren't you?"

Her face twitched with barely contained rage. "Tread carefully, mortal."

He braced himself into a protective fighting stance. "He's the only reason you don't kill us all. You know that one day he'll find out… and if your indoctrination isn't complete… he'd become a threat. Maybe not to your entire army, but maybe just you personally. That's it, isn't it… you're afraid of fighting a Prince, aren't you?"

She roared with uncontainable frustration. It was the only opening All Might would get, but just then, he saw across from him the unmistakable giant form of Mount Lady at her full height. His goal changed in less time than a heartbeat. Toshinori charged forward past Sondok towards the shell and put as much power as possible into a solid punch. He would free Midoriya Izuku and would see him brought to safety.

His fist made solid contact with the twisted shell, the Chrysalis as Sondok had called it. The power behind his blow was strong enough to knock it clean into the air, where it hurtled rapidly towards Mount Lady. He spared just enough time to watch her catch it expertly and tuck it under with one arm while using the other for additional support. "Go!" He shouted until his throat felt like it would bleed. Immediately she understood and took off running.

It was only after the adrenaline of the moment had passed that he accepted the gravity of what he had just done. His fist had become a useless mangle of flesh and bone. The hard impact had launched the Shell away, but his arm was broken and useless with cracks and tears in his bones and muscles. All Might still had a powerful enemy to contend with, one that didn't care for his new handicap.

Her next movement was too fast for him to understand. He did not see it, did not feel it. By the time his senses caught up, it was too late. His eyes turned to see her standing next to him with her sword held high. When had she gotten there? When did she draw her sword?

Then all Might felt the horrifying reality of what she had just done. She lunged forward with a single fluid motion and drew her sword into an upward slice, taking with it his outstretched and mangled right hand. His useless appendage was cleanly cut off and sent high into the air. Only then, when his attention had caught up to her movements, did he back away in time to prevent her downward cut from harming him too severely. She made a deep cut into his left pectoral muscle, but his last-minute dodge saved his life.

"That was very stupid," Sondok spoke with complete disdain as she used one long slice in the air to dispel his blood from her sword. "Now I'll have to kill you… all of you."

Why was she talking instead of killing? She could have sliced his head off. If she was fast enough that he couldn't see her before, then she could have taken his life in a single cut. Instead, she took off the hand that was already useless. All Might could tell that even now, she was holding back. Sondok had no fear of him or the other heroes. He struggled to think of what kind of power could frighten this monster of a woman. As things stood, he needed to keep his arms up in front of him and keep the fight going, even with a hand missing. He needed to give Mount Lady a chance to get some distance with Young Midoriya in tow.

He did his best to smile despite the maddening pain from where his hand used to be and the blood that wept from the open wound. "Sorry to make the day so inconvenient for you." He said with as much humor as he could muster. "But I couldn't just let you take him to another world… certainly not without him wanting to go. That boy… is going to be…" He struggled to form words as he became lightheaded. "…a Hero. He's going to fulfill his dreams… and he'll do it right here… even if I have to die to help him."


	5. Transcendent Desert Creature

{0}

There was little time for thought and barely more for action. Mount Lady strode quickly through the city, making turns at intersections seemingly at random. She had to create distance between these monsters and the boy inside of the shell held close to her breast. It was heavy and awkwardly shaped. Its sharp pointed spines threatened to tear into her uniform and skin, and its twisted geometry was cumbersome to heft as she ran, even without the risk of injury adding further complications. And then, of course, she was exposing herself to dangerous amounts of radiation, far more than their plan would have originally exposed her to. She was acutely aware that she had a time limit of holding this thing before her risk of cancer within the next decade would skyrocket. She knew that the next wave of heroic reinforcements was due to arrive soon. If she could just keep the shell away long enough, then they had a chance to salvage this situation. She simply hoped that they would get here before this thing did serious long-term damage to her health, or before these monsters caught up to her.  
  
These things, devas she supposed they called themselves, were tenacious and dangerous. They continued to appear now and then though in smaller numbers than before. Hopefully there was a hard limit to how many there were. Were these monstrous beasts part of Sondok's Quirk? They all were remarkably similar to each other, including their armaments. Again, she had to jump as one appeared in her path. As she took to the air over it's head it reached for her and grabbed onto her ankle. She had to stop long enough to kick it into a nearby building before continuing her run through the city. This went against everything she had trained for and fought for in her more than a decade long career of professional heroism. Leaving swarms of enemies behind her left the civilian population vulnerable. They were practically handing hostages to the enemy.  
  
But after overhearing Sondok and All Might through the communication system, she knew that under no circumstances could the enemy be allowed to have what was in her possession. She had trained and accepted that she might die on the job someday, but now it occurred to her that things were bad enough that they were forced to pick and choose how many civilians were acceptable to put at risk. It was a jaw clenching and terrible thought.  
  
A good portion of the dialogue flew over her head, primarily due to the fact that she was in active combat against these things at the time. But it was quite clear to all the heroes on the system and their support teams that these were villains from another world, and they were here to turn the boy she was holding into a weapon. On its face that statement sounded ludicrous, like something from a bad science fiction show. Yet here she was playing a dangerous game of tag to keep the shell trapped boy away from these creatures.  
  
And if that wasn't enough to worry about, there was the brain wracking thought of just how to get the boy out of this monstrous shell, or chrysalis as the alien woman had called it. She saw All Might hit the thing with an amazing amount of force, enough to launch it towards her. Absorbing that force and catching it was a particularly taxing experience. Yet in the several minutes she had been running since she still had not detected a single scratch or crack on the surface of the conch like metal structure. She was just thankful the thing wasn't causing any explosions while she was carrying it.  
  
But there was no time to consider any of that now. Another squadron of the beasts had appeared in front of her. With the others behind her, she was effectively pinned in place and without any backup. "Shit." She mumbled to herself. This was about to get ugly.  
  
She hoped the kid inside would be grateful. She had no idea what he was going through in there, or if he was even aware of how much was going on around him. She certainly could not know that at that moment Midoriya Izuku was dreaming of mad Primordials and worlds wrought by their nightmares.

  


{0}

Izuku found himself alone in a vast wasteland expanse with nothing but silver sand around him as far as the eye could see. High up in the dull brown skies above him was a sight unlike anything he could fathom; he shielded his eyes from a harsh Green Sun that beat down on him ceaselessly with dry hot fury. He cast his gaze in all directions, but he did not find any signs of anyone else or even a clue about how he got here. There were no footprints leading to where he stood. His skin felt unbearably hot under the Sun's rays, and the sand gathered below his feet seemed to reflect that heat back up at him. It was like this terrible place was trying to cook him alive.  
  
It was too hot, and he was too thirsty for him to process his thoughts. He tried to remember how he got here. He remembered the lavender skinned woman Ahalmahlhat. That was a name that would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life. She had saved his life, gave him his first kiss… He tried to remember past that and realized so much had happened so quickly that he wasn't sure what else they had… done together.  
  
He knew he had lost most of his clothing to her sharp touch which made his currently nude state less shocking. And at the moment he was too hot and thirsty and alone to feel embarrassed. He would worry about all that later when he saw her again. He had to see her again. But first he had to survive this place. He climbed up the tallest sand dune he could get to rather than choose a direction from where he already stood.  
  
As he turned once more at the dune's apex to survey his surroundings, he was dismayed to find that his footsteps were already gone. He felt no wind to explain the movement of the sands, nor did he feel them shift so fluidly as he made his climb. It had behaved as he expected and gave way for his feet, surrounding each bare foot in blistering hot desert sand. He had no rational explanation why each dent he had made in the side of the dune would be gone. It occurred to him that if he died out here there would be nothing but a pristine desert on the surface and a well-hidden corpse somewhere below.  
  
To his surprise his scan of the horizon revealed an abrupt change. A tall figure in desert robes stood on a dune not far from the one he stood on. Although the distance was not that far he could only hazily make out the figure as heat caused the air itself to shimmer, obscuring his vision. He trudged through the sands towards the figure ahead, shifting his vision from his footing towards the figure itself. He was afraid that at any moment they would disappear as though a mirage. Whether driven purely by survival instinct or loneliness he could not tell, but he was pulled forward by urges from deep within.  
  
As he got closer, he was blessedly in the shade of the figure. Looking up at her he could make out the outline of a feminine shape, yet his ability to make out details was obscured by the halo effect of the glaring sun behind her and the dark contrast of her shadow. But one thing was clear: she was gigantic. He looked up at her from lower on the dune than she stood, but even with that perspective considered the robed woman had to be at least eight feet tall. She was broad enough to remain proportional to her height, yet even with that much mass her robes fluttering in the wind gave her an insubstantial quality, as if a hard gust would cast her about like sand on the surface of the desert.  
  
"Welcome, Izuku of House Midoriya." Her voice was strong. It seemed to echo across the endless dunes. She knelt down to extend a hand to him to help him up the last few steps to the top of the dune where she stood. "I am Cecelyne, or rather I am part of Cecelyne."  
  
His hand was dwarfed by hers. He felt infinitely small next to her. "It's good to meet you, ma'am." He scrambled up next to her and then saw her for what she was. This was not a human figure in front of him. The billowing robes were nothing more than sand held together by wisps of light and air. And inside of them was a body of sand loosely compacted around a pillar of salt. The face that looked out at him was molded with great art but it was a lifeless sand sculpture with unmoving lips and eyes.  
  
She directed his gaze outward as she gestured across the vast desert. "Behold Cecelyne, the Endless Desert… the eternal plain of existence that interconnects all worlds." And as he allowed his eyes to follow her hands out to the desert, he felt dizzy. The horizon seemed to peel backwards away from his vision as more desert rose in the background on a ceaselessly flat and desolate landscape. It went on and on until his eyes begged him to stop, to clamp shut and turn away from the madness that is forever.  
  
And yet on some strange instinctive level he knew that he could not turn away. Instead his eyesight deepened. And with alarm he realized that he was not looking at one desert but an endless pool of worlds. The stars and planets arrayed themselves before him in infinite combinations and each was compacted down into nothing more than a grain of silver sand just for the sake of his sanity. He was not walking on the sands of a desert but among endless grains of existence. It was then that he understood the terrifying truth… Cecelyne was not a Quirk user… she was the multiverse itself.  
  
Fear gripped him deep in his heart. He was not on Earth. He had no idea how he got here. And he was standing next to… and on… a gigantic being far beyond his own limited comprehension. She stood next to him, yet she was everywhere he looked. She was composed of all the grains of sand that were not grains but entire worlds… and yet these worlds were not her nor were they a part of her. "How… how do I know you as much as I do… when I have never heard of you before?" He trembled as he spoke, shivering in spite of the heat.  
  
She cast open her robes to indulge him in even more shade. "You know me because it is in your nature to know me. All things we have wrought know us. We are the Creators, my siblings and me. And you Izuku of House Midoriya… you have been Chosen to carry our power back to your world. But come…" She held open the palm of her hand and somehow though it was made of sand it was a singular and solid mass with identifiable muscle and skin. It was eerily more lifelike than her face.  
  
In her outstretched palm was a single grain of sand. And this one tiny speck held more wonder and more awe for Izuku than anything he had ever seen in his life. It sang to a deep part of his soul and he knew it better than anything he had ever known before. "You may hold it if you like." She spoke to him.  
  
He gazed up into her lifeless face. There was an unmoving mouth, a nose with indentations where nostrils should have been, and most disturbing of all there were three eyes carved into that face. One was set at the dead center of her forehead. And it was the only thing on her face that seemed to have life. It watched him, ceaseless and unblinking, but he knew it watched him far better than the other two decorative eyes for her mask of sand. "Please." He held out his palm.  
  
Cecelyne placed the grain in his hand every so gently. And upon that touch Izuku knew without any doubt that he was holding the grain that contained the world of his own birth. This wasn't just a speck of sand in a desert. This was the universe he came from. And inside of it somewhere was the Milky Way… Earth… Japan… Musutafu… and somewhere in there was his mother. It was beautiful and frightening all at once. And just as he was about to ask her something the question left his mind. She reached forward and with the briefest touch of her finger the world in his hand rejoined with her. There it would remain forever to become just another grain of sand in the vast unending body of Cecelyne.  
  
He inhaled deeply. He wasn't aware that he had been holding his breath. He was so utterly captivated in the beauty of holding the world that he felt a deep loss now that the moment was over. Yet this was the only ending he could think of for that exquisite moment, that the world would rejoin countless others in Her endless perfection. He knew her on a deep instinctive level. He knew without a doubt he was in the presence of a divine being.  
  
She ushered him forward and he saw dunes pull back away from them, like great bodies turning in their sleep beneath sheets of sand. He watched as water crept up from a spring that had not been there before, and small desert shrubs and cacti quickly emerged along the shore of this brand new yet minuscule pond.  
  
He was dying of thirst, yet everything in him told him not to drink. Could this be an illusion? Was he going mad? Or worse, was this some kind of test? Finally, he and his desperation settled on just asking. "Lady Cecelyne… may I drink from your oasis?"  
She knelt down next to him so that her lifeless face could stare directly into his eyes. "Satisfy my curiosity, young man. Only then you may drink deep of the water I am loathe to part with… and of my power."

  


{0}

Aizawa rushed to All Might's side. He swallowed down his own internal panic and sped past two hulking apelike brutes. He didn't want to consider how this day could get any worse, and reminded himself that more reinforcements were on the way. But even as he reached out with one of his binding scarfs to grab onto All Might's bleeding arm, he was acutely aware of how vulnerable the move made both of them. They were now tethered together against an enemy who had proven herself more than capable of injuring All Might far worse than any foe before her had done… or at least, worse than any before her while remaining unharmed herself. He worried that the reinforcements would not be enough to take her on.  
  
All Might spared him a sideways glance and a smirk. If his confidence had diminished from his injury, he didn't allow it to show. Eraserhead somehow knew that All Might instinctively sent a signal to his missing hand to give a thumbs up. It was after all his dominant hand that was missing. He even continued to hold that arm forward rather than guarding it behind his left fist. What a pair they made in that moment. All Might with his missing hand and Eraserhead with a useless Quirk, both tied together in a desperate bid to halt All Might's bleeding.  
  
It would be heartwarming and inspiring to say the two of them took a powerful stand against Sondok, and that they refused to give her an inch of ground. Certainly, that was their intention. But the odds were staunchly against them. When she moved towards them with her sword at the ready they were caught flat footed. Their eyes failed to keep up with her rapid movements. If not for their years of training and experience they certainly would have died.  
  
Three rapid fire explosions at point black range knocked them off balance as she closed the distance towards them. The only positive side effect from that was that one of the blasts severed the binding between them, allowing them both more freedom to move. Unfortunately, one of the blasts caught Aizawa in the face, utterly destroying his visor and setting his hair on fire. The shrapnel from the blast embedded itself in a number of small cuts in his forehead, left cheek, and shoulder.  
  
But those injuries and the concussive force of those explosions merely served as cover for Sondok as she bore down on them with blindingly fast slices from her sword. Neither All Might nor Eraserhead were foolhardy enough to attempt a block or parry but instead dodged away from her again and again. Her striking range put them both at a severe disadvantage, but Aizawa eventually found a desperate opening.  
  
She smiled at him when he used his remaining scarf to bind the hand that held her sword. That one pause of motion provided just enough time for All Might to land a solid left hook to her face, launching her back towards the edge of the roof. She never let go of her sword, and in the process of being launched by that punch pulled Aizawa with her towards the edge. The sheer wind effect from the momentum put the fire in his hair out, but he now had to contend with being airborne and out of control of his own movement.  
  
Time seemed to slow down as he looked down towards his inevitable landing. She was already there and was ready for him. All Might was moving rapidly towards them but already Aizawa could tell it would be just one moment too late. He was falling towards her and she was faster than either one of them. He briefly spared a thought to his students, wondering who would take over his classes for their sake.  
  
It was at that moment that Endeavor made impact into the roof like a missile from afar. The force of his landing pushed Aizawa aside even as it burned his scarf to shreds. As Aizawa rolled with his landing, more heroes joined them on the roof. With Endeavor in the lead and All Might standing beside him, Sondok was surrounded.  
  
She did not seem disturbed by this in the slightest. In fact, other than a trickle of blood on her lip, there was no sign that this battle concerned her at all. She tore the binding Aizawa had placed on her sword hand, but still her axe hung on her opposite hip. Her cloud of wispy black hair seemed to waver and shimmer. It extended behind her and from that cloud an ephemeral creature emerged.  
  
It appeared to be a large wolf made of dust and smoke. As it strode to her side it grew more solid, but never quite complete. The skin seemed to shift and morph like smoke, at times revealing bones and muscles of equally ephemeral substance. Just when the heroes braced themselves for this new arrival, it sprinted away with nothing but a gesture from her. It ran and leapt from rooftop to rooftop. It ran in the direction of Mount Lady.  
  
Only then did Aizawa realize that most of her soldiers were gone. She had chosen to stay behind to stall them while her soldiers and now her… dog… chased down Mount Lady. Did any of the others notice? Did Endeavor? All Might? All that he knew was that he had to get over there to her. His suspicion of the situation was all but confirmed when the monstrous woman goaded them all on. "Don't keep me waiting heroes." She taunted them with the calmness one might use to order tea.  
  
And like moths to a flame they charged at her.

  


{0}

Dunes retreated as pyramid temples took their place. Row upon row of sunlit temple steps, murals of scenes he barely had enough time to take in, and text in languages long forgotten filled his vision. As a kaleidoscopic vision of architecture filled his mind all Izuku could say was "What would you like to know?"  
  
Thankfully nothing of the changing scenery disrupted the small oasis in front of him. "Tell me of your ambition to be a hero… why is it that you seek this goal so ardently?"  
  
He turned his vision away from the oasis and from the myriad of temples arrayed before them. Turning to look into her three haunting eyes he spoke clearly. "I want to save people with a smile. I want to make their lives better. I want to rescue them from disasters… from villains… from any loss within my power to prevent."  
  
She placed a hollow lifeless hand on his shoulder. If the gesture was meant to transmit comfort he could not say. "So, at the root of your desire is a need to save others… to help others? Yes?"  
  
Without hesitation he responded. "Yes, that's right."  
  
She gestured outward again, and he saw a multitude of petitioners at each temple, all of them praying. Some made sacrifices, others merely prostrated or got on their knees. "Tell me, what is the best way to serve the great mass of people you wish to save? What method will let you save the greatest number of them from harm?"  
  
He stumbled on his words. His instinct told him that it was to be a hero, but immediately his analytical mind rejected that answer. A hero could not save everyone. They could only save those they were aware of, and even then, only if they got there on time. For every report of a hero saving the day, he knew there were many tragedies where no one was there to prevent a terrible tragedy, or to stop a villain from getting away with murder or worse. "I… don't know." He feared he had failed his test.  
  
"Admitting your own failings is the root of all wisdom, young Izuku. Fear not." His eyes were drawn to the one at the center of her forehead. Making eye contact with her was taxing for him in a way he could not explain. "You will find that the best way to serve the largest number… to save the many and to repudiate those who would bring them harm… is to rule."  
  
To rule? To be a king? That wasn't his ambition or his vision. He didn't see himself sitting on some throne and making proclamations but actually on the front lines of a disaster making things right with his own hands. "I'm sure that answer is true for some but… I'm not sure if it is true for me…"  
  
The lifeless mask tilted. The expression did not change, yet somehow this odd movement conveyed emotion to it. Was it amusement? Anger? "Then let's test your answer… your ambition." With a soft push she turned Izuku away from the oasis and the temples and directed him to gaze back in the direction he had come from. There silver sands stretched onward forever, featureless save for variance in the size and shape of the dunes.  
  
"If you wander the desert before you… then instead of you as our shared champion I will raise up five heroes and imbue them with my own fathomless power. You will wander and die, never confirming what has become of those you love or the world you call home. You will die knowing that I in my wisdom chose five champions for your world instead of just one. But you will never know who they saved and who they did not, nor will you know how many you could have saved in their place." Her lifeless mask tilted again, and this time it seemed to project a cruel mirth at his expense. It was easier to stare at the death that awaited him, back under the hot sun as he baked on those sands, than to look her in the eye again.  
  
What she had put before him was an impossible choice. Become a hero or die and see five heroes take your place. It was nonsense, the kind of useless argument people have in philosophy classes. But this was very real. If he chose this then he most certainly would die. Five heroes could save exponentially more people than just one, right? "How… how do I know what kind of people you will choose to replace me?"  
  
Her animated hands clapped together. He almost expected a cloud of sand upon the impact, but it didn't happen. "An astute question: very good. You understand the core of the problem quite well, though you are still missing some of the nuances. To answer you: I would use a different criterion than the one used to choose you, the one favored by Ligier. Where the Green Sun appreciates intangible assets such as a heroic spirit, my preference would be champions who are strongly motivated by their sense of justice. Justice, order, faith, hierarchy… these things bind societies together."  
  
He could see it clearly now. Five heroes guided by a strong sense of justice. But again, he doubted that everyone's sense of justice was the same. Would they spare the same villains he would and argue for lenient sentences? Would they be too busy chasing villains to rescue disaster victims? Another question occurred to him. "You said I was a shared champion… and these five would be yours… what… does that mean they wouldn't be as powerful as I could be? Would their Quirks not be as powerful?"  
  
This time he was certain. The mask was smiling. He wasn't sure what to make of that. "They would not be as powerful in the sense that they would be limited in the scope of what power is available to them… but they would be just as powerful in their ability to reshape your world… but you must never again refer to the great powers we Primordials offer you as Quirks. Our powerful Charms hang from the Shinma-tapestry of existence itself. Our Charms are our spiritual genes, our defining art and will. Where our Devas are our flesh and bones our Charms are the building blocks from which we made ourselves before the first stars lit the sky."  
  
Izuku did not understand even twenty percent of what he just heard. But he understood the puzzle better: he could become a champion with power from more than one of these world spanning Titans, these Primordials. With that power he hoped he could help more people than five champions raised up by a single Creator. "I think I understand. Please, let us turn back to the oasis."  
  
But she didn't turn. She didn't direct him back towards the water. They remained there staring back at the endless dunes. "Tell me. Why should I share one champion with my siblings… when I could have five of my own?"  
  
Izuku finally realized just how much real danger he was in. Was this a test? Or was it rhetorical? He had to think quickly, or this alien being would likely bury him in her sands. He would suffocate and possibly drown with sand in his lungs. "Forgive me, lady Cecelyne, but… Isn't it better for you to have influence over the servant of another Titan than to waste an asset that you have partial claim to?"  
  
Her laughter was like a wind chime in a storm, a clamor of notes that could never pass for human sounds. "Good, young Izuku. You play the game well for your age. Now all that is left is but one question… will you rule? Or will you merely play the game?"  
  
Her laughter and her smile did not mean that he was safe. It was clear now that she saw his desire to be a hero as somehow an undesirable trait, one that she hoped to reshape to another more suited to her own design. Where he wanted to save people with his own hands, she would settle for nothing less than to turn him into a monarch… and he even pieced together that his own rule would be a puppet for hers. He didn't want that… but then the five that she would pick would have even less choice than he did in that moment, as there would be no other Titan for them to call on. This entire exchange was nothing more than an interview where she got to decide how useful he would be to her, and once that was settled if she thought he was useful enough to let live.  
  
"If it's a king you would have me become… then I will rule… but I must be as heroic a ruler as possible." He spoke with as much determination as he could muster in spite of his thirst, his exhaustion, and his desire to hold onto his life in the face of a monster he couldn't comprehend.  
  
"Defiant… but productive defiance. Yes. You will do well. But be warned: Malfeas is the One and Only King. Never assume such a title nor speak of taking such. Be a Prince, a Duke… anything… but leave the King his singular honor." Blessedly she turned the two of them away from the dunes and back toward the oasis behind them. The temples and their supplicants were gone as though they had never been there, but all Izuku could see was the water of that beautiful pond.  
  
His mouth had never felt so dry as when he gazed on that tiny lake for the second time. It seemed like forever since he had last seen it. He repeated his earlier entreaty. "Lady Cecelyne… may I please drink from your oasis?"  
  
With a gentle prod she urged him forward. The dunes seemed to part further as he crawled on his knees towards the water. "Come, drink of me and my oasis."  
  
He did not need to be told twice. He dove in face first and immersed his entire face under the surface, sucking the waters deep into his gullet. He breached to gasp for air before diving his face back under the surface.  
  
"Calm yourself, Izuku… take your time…" A hand gently coaxed him to relax, stroking through his hair. He did not turn his head to look over his shoulder, but instead craned his neck to keep his nose above the surface as he continued to drink. Breathe and drink, he told himself as he alternated back and for the between the two. As he did, he felt better and stronger with each gulp. As his stomach filled, he instead took smaller sips. In his heat driven delirium he even lapped at the surface of the water like a possessed beast.  
  
Her grip onto his hair and head become more intense, and another arm raked down across his back. He spared a glance and saw that the two arms were reaching out from below him to either side. Her body was no longer there… had she sunk back into the dunes? Was she going to pull him under? In a moment of panic he stopped drinking and lifted his head up completely.  
  
But by then he was trapped. "Drink deep of my oasis, Izuku." He heard her voice which now sounded less human than before and more like echoes of the wind through a distant canyon. Yet he still made out the words clearly. Before he could object the arms pulled him down, forcing his face back into the surface of the water. He gasped for air on his way down but had to exhale some of it as drinking water became his last desperate hope to lower the water enough to turn his head and breathe.  
  
"Drink." She said, and he did. Instantly he was no longer in a desert, but inside one of the temples she had revealed to him earlier. He was kneeling before a great stone altar, gazing up into the eyes of a high priestess. A queen of the desert. She was ebony, she was spices, she was incense; and yet she was a vibrant woman with generous curves, and she was naked save for jewelry and gold painted onto her skin in patterns he could lovingly follow for days.  
  
"Drink." She urged as she passed him a cup of wine. The cup was silver, and the wine was rich. He was drunk in one mouthful. His hesitation and his awkwardness vanished in one swallow regardless of what dreams may come. Because that is what his lushed mind told him: that this was all a dream and there were no consequences here.  
  
"Drink" she commanded as she parted her legs before him, and he dove his face between her thighs. He gazed up to look into her eyes as her hands dug into his hair. His eyes followed the patterns painted onto her skin up to the jewel adorned breasts and past those up to her face, but she smiled and admonished him with a pat on the back of his head. His eyes smiled as he looked up at her own eyes and then at the large opaque jewel that somehow was attached to her forehead.  
  
Her demand for him, however briefly affectionate, was not to be confused with a request. "Drink."  
  
He drank in her beauty, her smell, her taste, but most of all he drank in pride at the pleasure he administered to her. With each moment he grew bolder and more confident in his ministrations. And then all too soon he brought her to the ending she desired… and once again his face was under the water of a puddle in the desert. He hoped that their shared moment would goad her to release him. That hope vanished as the dunes rose up to surround him and then collapsed upon him, threatening to crush him under their immense weight.  
  
Perhaps the dream was just his own oxygen deprived imagination at work, he told himself fleetingly as he struggled to breathe under the weight of the sand piling on top of him.

  


{0}

Helpless and paralyzed, Inko watched as the battle unfolded around her. Airi and her news crew recorded everything and interfaced with whatever studios they remained in contact with, which presumably added commentary as they aired footage of the battle across the world. Support crews worked behind the scenes to evacuate large numbers of civilians, run medical triage for heroes, and maintain constant communication between hero teams. Inko was aware that in the background two members of the Hero Association support division were even on the line with international teams in Korea, China, and the United States. The incident now had the attention of the United Nations and was no longer considered domestic terrorism.  
  
The entire world watched in horror along with her as All Might had lost his right hand. The world joined her in her helplessness as her son was spirited away by Mount Lady. But it was too soon to cheer for small victories or to mourn any losses. The enemy remained in pursuit. She overheard another support group working with lower ranked heroes combing the peripheral area of the conflict. They were searching for whatever ship these extraterrestrials had come here in. Another was working with social scientists around the world to analyze recorded fragments of the language the terrorists were speaking to each other.  
  
Terrorists? Aliens? Whatever or whoever they were, their designs on her son were anything but benign. They wanted him, for some reason specifically him, for a terrible purpose. Why? Why would they take a sweet boy like her Izuku? He was gentle and kind. While other boys idolized heroes for their battle prowess Izuku focused on their capacity to help people, to rescue them. Her son had the largest heart and the most generous soul of anyone that she had ever known. And these people wanted him and did not hesitate to bring terror and bloodshed to get their way.  
  
Rage burned impotently in her chest. But her idleness gave her an ability to blend into the background and observe. The entire apartment was unrecognizable as a home. It was now a temporary base of operations. Each of the three bedrooms and the living room were effectively offices for different activities, and each were crowded. She supposed the owner's belongings and furniture were stored away into a nearby apartment. None of it could be found here.  
  
She was the first to notice the intrusion in the living room due to her wandering eyes. It was subtle. Sand has started seeping in under the front door of the apartment. It was a gradual trickle at first, then it caught a lot of attention as sand seemed to blow in from above and the sides of the door as well… then through it as though the door was nothing more than a flour sifter. She saw support crews signal frantically for aid. The enemy was now in the heart of their operation. They knew to expect that one of the hulking ape-like creatures would soon manifest where the cloud of sand coalesced.  
  
What appeared instead was something out of a drug induced nightmare. Four emaciated and multi jointed arms appeared, at the end of each was a seven-digit paw rather than a proper hand. Each claw tip however appeared to be a series of bristles rather than a finger or a blade. What floated above the floor at the center of this limb collection was a hollow cloak. It was made of worn leather composed of dozens of faces, all of which seemed contorted in agony.  
  
"Operation Eggshell is compromised. Headquarters has been breached. I repeat," The communication manager was cut off from speaking when one of the twisted limbs thrust forward, jamming the bristles of the outstretched paw into the man's throat. His skin gave way like the surface of a puddle when stepped on, and color drained from his face as a red line trailed back up the bristles to the center of the cloak. There a thin form of crimson glass formed. It was a red mask accompanied by a series of interlocking glass bones behind it, all anchoring that mask to the many faces that stitched into the body of this thing.  
  
Inko was not the only one to scream while witnessing the assault, and more voices of despair joined the chorus as the assaulted man slumped to the floor once this monster had drained enough blood for its purpose. They all feared for their lives. Death was here among them, and unlike a human villain this thing was so foreign that its capabilities were completely unknown. But just as they all braced for it to latch onto another victim it paused and scanned the room with empty eye sockets of a newly formed mask.  
  
"I seek the mother." Its voice was chaotic like radio static or a loud shaker of table salt, yet words still transmitted easily enough as the bones behind the mask rubbed against each other like a collection of discordant stringed instruments.  
  
Mustering courage she did not know she had, Inko stepped forward. "I'm Izuku's mother." Her peripheral vision allowed her to see one of the other supporters crawl to obtain the microphone and switch from their fallen comrade. This thing in front of her did not seem to notice. It bore down on her with all of its singular focus.  
  
The eyeless face stared at her unnervingly. "I am Mahbagodeth, known across the deserts of Cecelyne as the Inkwell of Blood. We have much to discuss."  
  
Inko contained her fear and anger while she kept her clenched fists down to her sides. This opportunity to be useful in the conflict and to help her son was too important to throw away. "Yes. I believe we do."

  


{0}

Gasping for air he burst from the sand, revealing his upper torso. Soon after he managed to claw his way completely to the surface. And there in spite of the endless heat of the sun and the baking heat of the dunes he was thankful for another moment of life. He wasn't sure how long he was under the dunes, but it was far too long. As he placed his hands on the sands in front of him, he noticed something.  
  
His hands looked like he had been tanning for a very long time. He looked down and over the rest of him and from what he could tell the effect had covered his entire body. With his clothes in tatters it was easy for him to see that this affected every part of him. Additionally, he didn't feel nearly as hot nor as thirsty as he was before. On some level he understood that it was still hot, but that was no longer a major concern. It was as if he was somehow immune to the blisteringly arid conditions that just an hour or more ago threatened his life.  
  
"You did well." She spoke from somewhere behind him. He whirled around rapidly to meet her face to face. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if it would be the voluptuous priest queen he would see, and indeed as he turned the corner of his vision beheld her and he drank in her beauty. Her bountiful curves and dark thick lips with just the barest hint of a smile, eyes darker than the deepest night, all of it outlined perfectly by gold pain etched into her generous frame across her flawless dark skin. And just as quickly as he focused his vision on her that human appearance was gone, replaced by the enigmatic and lifeless mask of sand and salt.  
  
Was the woman he remembered an illusion of his own making? Was there meaning to the pleasure of that vision? Was any of it real? Was that a vision of who she used to be before becoming this fathomless queen of an endless and empty desert? Was she ever human, even if it was long before in a forgotten age? He probably would never know the answers to these questions.  
  
She slowly strode forward across the dune they stood on, as though gliding across the sand. Then she reached forward tentatively to touch a long lifelike finger to his forehead. He felt rather than saw the gem she pressed into his skin. "A gift." was all she said in that moment as he felt a scorpion like sting where it made contact. To his credit he didn't flinch. He bit back a number of things he would have liked to say.  
  
"With this you have but to focus your will on returning to this place. It will guide you to where my sands slowly seep into your world and there you may open a door to reach me and my endless desert again. From here you may journey anywhere my sands touch. Some journeys such as the way to Malfeas will take you a mere five days… but other places are much farther for you." As she spoke her hand moved to trace the outline of the side of his face. Then her finger grazed gently along his jawline and then his lips. The gesture was familiar and human, like that of a hesitant lover. It was the only confirmation he would get that what passed between them was more than a desperate man drinking water in a desert. It was something he never explicitly asked for. He would have to accept that.  
  
Cold and alien once more, she withdrew from him and rose to a height that dwarfed him. Once more he was a tiny creature in a Titan's shadow. Yet he no longer felt as small or as weak as when they first met. He gazed up to her face and did not waver as she was blindingly framed by the corona of the Green Sun behind her.  
  
"Touch the jewel I have gifted you and direct a prayer to me, and I will hear you regardless of what world you call out from. Pray, and I will offer you my blessings and my boons in answer to your entreaties." The wording was precise and careful. He knew that since the moment he had first met her they were not speaking his native Japanese. The language was Malfean. And her meaning to him was clear. Anything he prayed for he would receive, but the price for calling on this dread deity would be steep. His life would be a cheap price for the blessing she would offer him. He knew that a prayer to her would place him in an endless cycle of debt, one that would one day see him as nothing more than her puppet.  
  
"Thank you Lady Cecelyne. Your wisdom and gifts are as boundless as the sands of your expansive desert." He bowed as per the custom of his home country and when he stood up again, she was already gone. But he knew that he still stood in her domain, and that she still surrounded him. But as far as she was concerned the lesson and the conversation were both over. He had to accept that and move on in a literal sense. He cast his gaze across the horizon and saw nothing he should be walking towards… so instead he decided that his best bet was to walk towards the Green Sun which had remained in the same position in the sky since the moment he first arrived. He barely noticed that the desert winds had grown quiet as he continued on his way.

  



	6. Freedom Lets Go

{}

The Green Sun continued to rain unrelenting heat onto Izuku's skin as he walked among the endless dunes, but he endured the heat far better than he had before. He was better able to collect his thoughts now that he no longer felt so close to dying. He knew that he was somehow more powerful than he was before his encounter with Cecelyne, but beyond being better able to traverse the desert he wasn't sure of the details. His lack of perspiration and his dark tan were important clues, but he also felt an intangible energy inside of him that he lacked the ability to define. And something told him this energy was directed towards helping him endure unrelenting harsh conditions. For some reason that phrase stuck itself in his mind and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't restate it using other words. Neither the versatile Malfean language, nor his native Japanese, allowed him to use a different combination of words to represent the idea of what his internal energy was accomplishing. It was as if while the energy was active, he was unable to consciously think about it beyond its explicit purpose, but instead was forced to continue and endure unrelenting harsh conditions.  
  
Still this ability was useful, however mysterious it was. Cecelyne had called her powers Charms. He felt silly when he thought about the Japanese word for the concept, yet in the Malfeas dialect the word held far more importance and power. Rather than a physical object, it referred to something intangible. It was a magic of one's will to reshape oneself and the world. He had never considered magic to be real, as Quirks were nothing more than physical abilities which could all be scientifically explained away with various human mutations. But here he was walking on an Endless Desert who was also a woman, under a Green Sun who had somehow Chosen him to be here and to receive power from the Creators. It was all so surreal that magic was a foregone conclusion. But this wasn't the sort of magic where you point wands and utter words and shoot fireballs, but rather the magic of myriad realities he had never considered before; of infinite worlds previously unknown to him.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted as he felt a strong wind on his back, which at first felt blessedly cool compared to the stagnant air he had trudged through so far. The wind was accompanied by the coarse unpleasantness of sand stirred up around him as the soft breeze turned into an unrelenting gale. Even as he shielded his eyes and slid down onto the trough of a nearby dune, he observed that the wind was eerily silent. The howling of the air and the spray of the sand were absent from his hearing, yet he felt them on his skin and saw them with his eyes. The wind picked up in strength and speed, grinding the dunes down and threatening to flatten them out until they could no longer offer shelter for Izuku. He would have no solace except his new ability to endure unrelenting harsh conditions, and this certainly seemed to qualify.  
  
Of course, things then became even stranger and significantly worse for him. Tearing past him to his right was a hail of arrowheads that tore through a dune like a school of piranha devouring a fat pig. Far overhead the winds spread a rust-filled crimson cirrus that obscured the sky. Or perhaps that was blood, he thought grimly. Most frightening of all was the wind to his left which was somehow made of light, as though brilliant beams of white-hot sunlight were carried on the wind itself. All around him the dunes died and were flattened in a slaughter so quiet that he wondered if he was deaf. He certainly felt almost blind, as the brightness of the winds and the whirling sands left his eyes searing in pain. Although he was surrounded by gale force winds that threated to tear the flesh from his bones, he stubbornly gathered his thoughts to analyze the situation. He felt an insistent need to carefully consider his situation, and he eventually gathered enough sense to realize that the winds moving around him somehow had enough sapience to spare his life. With that understanding, he felt far braver than he otherwise would.  
  
It was upon achieving that knowledge that he looked around and saw that he was not alone. A young woman stood near him. Her hair was jet black and cut short near her ears. Her limbs and her fingers were exceptionally long, which added to her impressive height. Her build was slight, and she wore only what Izuku would describe as a crimson on black jumpsuit. However, the material it was crafted from was alien to him, and there was no indication of how to remove it or get into it. Her feet were bare, and just like her hands had long fingers, her feet had similarly extended toes. Other than her teeth being too perfect and too white, her face seemed rather plain. Her human appearance and soft brown eyes managed to put Izuku somewhat at ease, but not completely. His eyes briefly strayed to a dagger secured to her hip.  
  
For the first time since arriving here, Izuku was painfully aware of his state of undress. When in the company of Cecelyne earlier, he was too thirsty and desperate to survive to care about modesty. But now he was acutely aware of himself and his body. Thankfully, this mysterious woman next to him didn't seem inclined to care. She whispered to him from over four meters away, yet he heard her quite clearly in the cavernous silence they found themselves in. "Run with me, Izuku. Free yourself and run with me." And before he could formulate a response, she took off to run past him. He turned quickly to reply to her, but her whisper carried over her shoulder to his ears. "Run or perish. You are free to choose either."  
  
It was only then that he noticed the arrow laden gale had shifted towards him. Running suddenly seemed like an excellent idea. Adrenaline shot through his nerves like a bolt of liquid lightning as each step propelled him forward ever faster. He never could catch up to the whispering woman, yet his pace was just enough to avoid death by a thousand arrows. Mercifully, the woman ahead slowed her pace just enough to let him catch up while she offered her hand out to him. Gasping with fear he placed his hand into hers.  
  
While her appearance suggested that she was fragile, even delicate, the woman's grip was far stronger than her frame suggested. As she sprinted forward, Izuku felt the pull so hard that he feared she'd dislocate his entire shoulder. That however was still preferable to the certain death that awaited him if he did not pick up his pace. Yet even as they both continued to run the entire situation seemed absurd to him. His mind knew intellectually that it was not possible to outrun the wind, which lead him to observe that something about this situation seemed completely wrong. He cast his gaze to either side of them as they ran, while his newfound power seemed to bring his mind into sharper focus, thoroughly measuring the distance between the two of them and the deadly winds arrayed around them.  
  
He wasn't certain how he was able to measure the distance so precisely while they were moving, or at all, given that he had no instrument to judge by, yet he knew with absolute confidence that they were exactly twenty seven meters away from the storm of arrows behind them, and an equal distance from the blindingly bright wind that flanked their left and the strange crimson wind that had moved to flank their right. They were in the epicenter of a deadly storm, the eye of the tornado. That deduction allowed him to finally understand this lithe woman grasping hold of his hand was in fact the source of the wind itself.  
  
He could practically feel her smile. Realization struck him that her teeth weren't just perfectly white, they couldn't really be considered teeth. Instead her mouth was filled with white what appeared to be jade polished to a bright sheen. "We are Adorjan." She whispered, and once again he heard her as clearly as if she had shouted. "We are the wind. We are silence. We are love. We are death. We and our daughters…" He implicitly understood that the winds arrayed around both of them were her children. "We are one."  
  
The stress on his arm grew even more intense as she picked up ever more speed.  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Even in a situation where he felt death so close to claiming him, he remained as polite as possible. He'd have bowed if circumstances allowed, but the best he could do was an exaggerated bobbing of his head as they maintained their frenetic pace across the dunes. His body felt like dead weight compared to her unearthly speed and strength.  
  
Briefly setting his awkwardness aside, he felt understanding finally flood into him. Just as with Cecelyne before, he found that he knew this woman far better than he should have based upon their brief introduction. This woman before him was Adorjan, the Silent Wind. On some level he understood that he was now in the arms of a capricious being who killed as casually as someone else might smile at a stranger. Her effort to run with him, to avoid killing him with her own gale, seemed nothing more than an act of whimsical amusement. After all, she was a herald of death, if not death herself.  
  
Her grip on his hand tightened. Myriad concepts seem to enter his mind rapidly from that physical connection. Whereas Cecelyne was expansive and imperious, Adorjan preferred to communicate quietly, and if possible, without words at all. He understood her better, but that understanding brought a fear into his heart unlike anything he had previously known. This was a being that loved infinitely. She also saw life as a form of suffering… that simple syllogism was why she killed so easily. In his mind's eye, he could see crowds of thousands reduced to viscera and gore in her wake. He knew that, to her, such atrocities of mass murder were borne from an alien form of love that he hoped to never comprehend.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by a growing whisper of concern from Adorjan, as she dragged him after her stride. "You're too slow. You'll die…" With a solid yank on his arm she pulled him forward and tossed him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It was not a dignified position for him, nor was it a comfortable one. Her shoulder dug deep into his stomach in cadence with her long stride. But, as uncomfortable as it was, this position afforded him a view of the landscape they were leaving behind, as well as the horrifying gales that were chasing them. Crimson and arrows and light like he had seen before, but now, he had an opportunity to focus on them. Although they were distinct, they seemed to swirl and writhe over each other in a strange coalescing fashion at their edges. It was hypnotic in the way a skilled set of dancers on a stage might appear to their audience.  
  
Only by staring did Izuku observe that there was a fourth dancer in the troupe. Unlike the other three, there was a wind among them that bore nothing visible to the naked eye. No light, no crimson mist, no arrowheads, it carried nothing along with it. It was the small shy sister of the other three, and wove herself through, among, and between them. yet as he focused on that playful gust, he heard a childlike laughter in the recesses of his mind. "Use the gifts the Endless Desert has bestowed on you…" Was that Adorjan whispering to him as she carried him, or the childlike emptiness that chased after him?  
  
He wondered what gift the woman was referring to when some part of him supplied the answer: Hellscry Chakra. Without any true understanding he focused and felt a strange energy from within him coalesce and gather in his forehead, and then he was awarded with enough sensation that he wondered if he had ever had his eyes open before.  
  
He looked outward and there were distinct auras of light floating on the wind that he never noticed before. A veritable diaspora of light and life rushed forward with each of the gales following in Adorjan's wake. And it was indeed a wake, both a celebration of lives taken and a tumultuous wave of destruction that she left behind. He was not nude in the arms of a woman, but carried up by a powerful wind, buffeted uncomfortably, yet clothed in a strange green light that barely covered his modesty. Where previously there was a woman carrying him over her shoulder, now was now nothing. She was a void completely lacking substance, yet that nothingness was all inclusive and all expansive. The void covered a vast distance and leveled dunes as it rushed forward. Where before there were four distinct gales following them, there were now four young women each clothed in long flowing robes that billowed behind them, each article of clothing struggling to keep up with the pace and power of the woman it adorned. They were filled with joy and light and laughter; a family that ran together, played together, and killed together. Wind and woman, woman and wind, they were interchangeable. They were one in their enlightenment, their madness, and their joy.  
  
It was a lot to take in. Izuku was overwhelmed by the opening of his figurative third eye. But he didn't have much time to take in the sights. To his right he saw that Adorjan was reaching with her hand stretched back over her shoulder. She gripped her jade dagger by the blade, presenting the handle towards him as if in offering. "You still weigh too much… you must cut the chains. You must reduce the excess weight."  
  
She pressed the offered dagger towards him even though he had no idea what she was talking about. But as his fingers wrapped around the handle, his third eye seemed to open even wider, focusing on a long array of golden chains, each chain dragging a bright golden weight attached to its end, anchoring it down to the desert. He was shocked to see that each of these chains were tethered directly through his chest, and implicitly he understood that each chain was hooked into his heart.  
  
Cut the chains, she had said, and so he placed the knife's sharp edge against one of the golden chains and slid the blade along the metal surface. It would take a long time to file down each one, he told himself, yet the knife cut into it quite easily… but he stopped cold as a vision filled his mind. The scene was from a year ago, when he was part of a tour group exploring several college campuses. This particular day the tour was at Yuuei Daigaku. The tour had been restricted to the General Studies department where most of the campus' liberal arts degrees were available. Yet he somehow knew that this chain did not contain a memory for him, but rather held his own feelings and ambitions. This chain was his burning desire to go to UA University. He could not cut it. He refused… but there had to be others he could cut, right?  
  
"You are running out of time, Izuku… I will put you down soon. Will you be light enough to run on your own? Will you keep up?" She whispered into the back of his mind. He implicitly understood the threat that loomed over him. If he didn't start cutting away at these chains, then she would drop him into the path of her daughters, and he would die bleeding and screaming.  
  
He reached for another one. This chain brought up the image of Kagome, a pretty girl at school that he had a crush on for years. He knew nothing would ever come of those feelings. He had tried to offer her a Valentine's Day chocolate that he had made for her a year ago, but she had never returned any sign of the affection when White Day arrived. Instead, she had regifted his chocolates to an upperclassman with bigger muscles and dog ears as part of his Quirk. He quickly cut the chain… and suddenly he didn't care about her anymore. It was as if she had never mattered to him in the first place. He remembered the chocolates, but he could no longer recall why they were important. Oh well, he mentally shrugged.  
  
He found another. This one reminded him of a number of times he had been bullied, especially by Kacchan and his lackeys. Without hesitation he cut the chain, and while he still remembered the insults and the injuries, he suddenly did not care about them the way he used to. It was like those incidents happened to a different Izuku and he was just an observer. On some level he knew that this chain contained a name, Deku, and that the name was his before he had cut the chain. But now it wasn't associated with him anymore. He'd have to try and remember to give it back to Kacchan. He moved on to the next chain, no longer caring about how much his mind had just changed in the space of a heartbeat.  
  
The next chain filled him with warmth and love as he gripped it. Inside he found his mother. She was crying as she held him, repeatedly apologizing for him being born without a Quirk. Yet even though it was painful, he found he could not move to cut this one. He absolutely refused to lose any feelings related to his mother. He loved her, and he didn't want to imagine what he would become if he suddenly stopped loving his mother. Instead he gripped another one… and inside he found… absence. Where his father should have been the weight on the other end of this chain, instead there was the impact of the man's absence. He cut that particular chain without hesitation, and suddenly every emotion associated with his father or that his absence had instilled in him were all gone.  
  
He quickly cut through several more. One of them held his favorite foods. Gone. Another held his love of video games. Gone. The next one held his lingering embarrassment over puberty and his body. He quickly cut it away. After that, he found one that held his anxiety in social situations, born from his early sense of Quirkless inadequacy. He smiled when he sheared that particular chain away. With each chain he cut, his mind unburdened itself of the pleasures and pains of his life before coming here, before wandering this desert of madness. He expected to find a chain representing his encounter with Cecelyne, but he never found one. Perhaps that was by design.  
  
There were others that he also refused to cut as he went through them. His desire to rescue others and to become a hero were both bundled together with his admiration for All Might. He could see the two weights dragging through the sand, each pulled by the braided chain that bundled the two by association. He considered trying to see if he could cut just one of the two chains but decided against it, as the two weights in his heart were inextricably linked. His ambition was something he would not give up, even at the risk of death. But then he found the chain of All Might's passionless words to him, the final discouragement that lead to his suicidal ideas. He cut it without thinking through what that could mean. He wanted no more of that kind of weakness inside of him.  
  
His mind continued to shift and alter with each chain he severed. The memories all remained, but they held no more weight when he considered them. No longer was he cutting just for the sake of survival, this had now turned into an opportunity to cut out the weaknesses he wished he had been strong enough to remove before all of this. Now he could lobotomize the dead weight of his emotions and come out better than he had ever been before. That's what he kept telling himself as he searched for another chain worth cutting. His obsession with Quirks? He kept that. His need to mumble his thoughts out loud in order to efficiently organize himself? He cut that away.  
  
And then he struggled. The next chain he grasped held his childhood friendship with Kacchan. He had already cut away the negative feelings associated with being bullied by his former best friend. Could he also cut away the friendship itself? He held this one, weighing it far longer than any other he had held onto up to now. This one held meaning for him that he didn't want to necessarily abandon, and it was easier for him to hold onto it now that he had let go of so much of the pain the friendship had caused him. He knew that this chain also tied into some of that pain, as it included the emotions that caused him to write a suicide note for Kacchan's benefit. But it also held all the hope and promise he had by looking up to his childhood friend, from his admiration of the boy's Quirk to his hope that Kacchan would stop being a bully someday and become a great hero.  
  
"Freedom Lets Go." Adorjan prompted him with a gentle whisper. She didn't need to say anything else. Either move on to the next chain or cut this one already. Izuku no longer hesitated, and he swiftly cut the chain that held all his admiration and brotherly love for the temper tantrum ridden kid named Bakugou Katsuki. Izuku idly wondered what he ever saw in someone so weak that they would bully Quirkless children, or someone so small and petty that they were enslaved to their own anger. Izuku remembered all of the times Bakugou had bullied him throughout their early bond, but none of these memories had any meaning for Izuku anymore. And with emotionless clarity, he realized he was glad to longer feel tied to young Bakugou. Izuku remembered telling himself moments ago to return a nickname, but suddenly that internal promise seemed to lose weight and merit. Why would he need closure with someone who didn't even matter?  
  
Izuku searched for another chain, but after passing his studious admiration of heroes, his deep meticulous nature, and his own optimism, he struggled to find one that he hadn't previously considered. At last he found the one that represented his interaction with the Neomah, Ahalmahlhat. It contained an emotion that he had never admitted to himself before. He loved her. He had only known her for minutes, but her indelible impression on him caused his immature teenage mind to fall helplessly into deep romantic amour. He also took the chance to study the memory of her closely, despite the present danger he was in. Although this was not the time or the place for exploring such memories, he knew in this moment that he would not find a chain related to his desire to lose his virginity. He had already lost it, not to Cecelyne's one sided demands but to Ahalmahlhat's generosity. Their coupling was brief and unfinished, but now he could remember it clearly, and he could not bring himself to cut the emotions of that encounter from his heart. He briefly wondered if he would ever see her again.  
  
Moving onward, Izuku severed two more of the golden chains. He hoped he wasn't doing too much damage to himself when he cut through his own modesty and his yearning for a role model. Yet already he could feel his pride growing as he felt reassured in these decisions. It no longer mattered that he was nude, nor did his previous yearning for encouragement or guidance concern him. He would guide himself. He would take inspiration from wherever he could find it, and he would build within himself the ideal that he would strive for from this point onward. No one's voice but his own would truly matter anymore, not after he had taken what inspiration from them that he could. Not after discarding the useless and unreliable weakness such attachments could bring him.  
  
Inevitably, he came upon how much he valued life, a chain that tied back to his earliest memories of encountering death. Gripping this golden chain in his hands caused him to freeze completely. The memory was clear in his mind. His mother had laid a mouse trap and it worked quite well. Horrified, little Izuku had begged her to trade it out for one that would simply capture the mice alive. He couldn't stand the idea of a small helpless creature dying just because someone didn't like it. This early experience helped shape him and the value he placed on human life later. There was no way he could cut this chain away, and it gave him pause enough that he no longer wanted to cut any more chains from his heart.  
  
Adorjan had had enough, apparently. Izuku saw her outstretched hand gesturing impatiently for her knife to be returned. Fearing her anger, he offered the knife back to her handle first, and immediately he lost sight of the chains connected to his heart. Somewhere out there behind them were the lost weights that had once been important parts of him, important emotions that helped shape and mold who he was. Now they were just debris in an endless sea of dunes, and would soon be covered by the sands. Despite the wounds he had inflicted on his own mind, he felt lighter and freer than ever before in his life.  
  
Izuku did not mourn these losses. Instead, he focused on a brilliant array of energy moving through him, one that he barely understood. He felt lighter, and was consumed with an urge to move, to run, to howl. He needed to direct this energy, and could not allow himself to be carried anymore. Despite the danger to his own life, he struggled free of her hold on him and broke immediately into a sprint alongside her. He leapt with her from dune to dune. Already he was moving faster than he ever had before in his short and unexemplary life. Yet even as he exulted in his newfound speed and power, he continued to gain momentum. Faster and faster, he felt like he could run forever.  
  
Even as Izuku's mind moved on past his self-inflicted emotional mutilation, he quickly processed his newfound speed. The fastest he had ever run before was a top speed of twenty-four kilometers per hour, or a two-and-a-half-minute kilometer. He certainly could not keep that pace up for multiple kilometers in a row, not back then. He now easily surpassed that. Without any measuring equipment, his mind grasped at his senses for accuracy, determining the height of, and the distance between the dunes, using his own height and stride as the basis for these measurements, as well as the angle of each dune's slope. From there he kept a methodical count of his steps, measuring that against his heartbeat in order to determine the rate he was passing everything by. Izuku calculated all of this rapidly, paying almost no mind to the fact that a wall of arrowheads loomed behind him, ready to tear his body into ribbons of bloody flesh strewn across the desert. He calculated he was moving at a pace of fifteen meters per second, which multiplied out to nine hundred meters per minute. This of course meant he was moving just over fifty-four kilometers per hour.  
  
Despite his newfound ability to do all the above math in his head while running faster than a human had any right to move, Izuku still felt too slow. He knew he could push himself to do more, but he didn't understand how. No matter how much he begged his muscles, he could not get them to cooperate and go farther or faster than he was already going.  
  
"Focus." He heard the dread deity whisper to him from afar. "Feel the energy, the essence pooling inside of you. Channel it through your muscles, your ligaments… focus not on the physical, but the immaterial. You are the wind. You are of the desert. You are our champion." Adorjan urged him onward, prodding him with just enough information to figure out for himself how this newfound power worked.  
  
Moving at dangerous speeds, and with the threat of death looming behind him if he slowed down by even a hare's breath, Izuku closed his eyes just long enough to turn his attention inward. "Essence" Adorjan had called it. The word in Malfean had connotations like chi, but it was subtly different. Setting those semantics aside, he turned his thoughts inward to the vast store of energy inside of him. It was an energy that he had previously tapped the surface of to survive, to endure unrelenting harsh conditions. Now, he focused on that power to move forward at shocking speeds. He forced his way to just under sixty-nine kilometers per hour. Unrelenting and untiring he surged forward. His soul filled with laughter, filling the recesses of his mind where his fettering emotions once held him in check. Izuku's laughter burst from his chest as the only sound for miles. His eyes opened to endless dunes passing him as he moved far faster than he had ever dreamed he could propel himself. He turned his eyes towards Adorjan running beside him, and in that fleeting moment of shared unadulterated joy, there was a spark of love between them.  
  
The love of Adorjan, the Silent Wind, is something no one should ever have to experience. Izuku had no idea what a mistake he had made by sharing such a joy filled moment with her. He would soon discover why all the residents of Malfeas prayed for Adjorjan to leave them be and to let them live. He would experience a hell unlike anything he had ever imagined he would face.

  



	7. Murder is Meat

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The sun bled red light as it set far off in the distance, behind Sondok's back. The light disrupted the vision of the heroes around her, providing a brief disadvantage. For now, Endeavor and All Might had enough back up that their numerical superiority provided ample confidence. The fact that Sondok seemed unaffected by her isolation grated on their nerves, as did the insult that she summoned aid only to send it away to another theatre of battle.  
  
Eraserhead had made a stealthy exit after his bindings were destroyed. All Might internally surmised that Aizawa was giving chase to the ethereal hound that Sondok had sent in the direction of Mount Lady. There was unfortunately no time to consider that now. They were engaged in combat, not a staring contest.  
  
Even now they were being supported by Cementoss, who was working tirelessly to mitigate Sondok's explosion Quirk. The conflagrations had a brief tell before detonation: the air would fill with tarnished brass shrapnel the moment before the explosion. The shrapnel seemed to assemble using the same sandy substance that she and her soldiers used in their teleportation Quirk, which suggested that they were rooted in the same ability. But where it took almost half a minute for a complete creature to form, the shrapnel laden firestorms took no more than two to four seconds depending on the size of the blast. There did not appear to be a range limitation per se, nor did Sondok need to gesture or even glance in the direction she wanted the explosions to appear. But the fact that these explosions were not harassing Mount Lady or the heroic combatants on the streets below definitely pinpointed Sondok as the source.  
  
For now, the best Cementoss could accomplish was to watch for the tell-tale signs of an upcoming blast and place hastily made walls of concrete between the epicenter and the nearest heroes. The strategy was proving at least somewhat effective. The main downside was that he was exhausting himself by forming so much masonry so quickly, and that the walls were brittle and weak due to how quickly he had to form them. Worse still, there was the inherent risk that concrete debris would get knocked about by the rapid concussive blasts each wall faced, potentially making hard brittle missiles for the other heroes to contend with. However, they served as effective shields against the shrapnel native to Sondok's explosions. As bad as being hit by brick sized chunks of concrete could be, that shrapnel was far worse and could do disgusting amounts of damage to their vital organs if they weren't careful.  
  
Further complicating matters was the weakening integrity of the building they were fighting on. The weight of the gigantic shell was removed, but it's presence for hours on end had left a large crater in the center of the roof. Add to that explosions, heavy combatants, and rapidly forming walls of cement, and it spelled a recipe for a complete cave-in of the roof. This was evidenced by cracks forming along the roofline and the exterior support walls, bearing witness to the approaching to the imminent demise of the apartment complex.  
  
While taking cover behind one of these walls, sheltering them from a repetitive series of concussive blasts, All Might and Endeavor took just enough time to cauterize the still bleeding wound that used to be All Might's right hand. That moment was unbearable for both men, not due to the physical pain but because they both knew that this was the passing of the torch from one hero to the other. As Endeavor sealed All Might's wound shut, he contended with the knowledge that he could never prove himself better than All Might at his prime, but instead would become the number one hero by default. All Might, similarly, had to deal with the fact that not only was he now missing a hand, but that this was an injury that could not be hidden. The Symbol of Peace would no longer be intact in the hearts and minds of Japan or the rest of the world.  
  
The distant noise of helicopters overhead reminded All Might that even now, the entire world was watching. Embarrassment, mortification, and shame were a few words that described for him the feeling of losing his hand on live television. But the worst part of it was that he felt like he had let so many people down. He had built himself up into an invulnerable image, one that would let people feel safe and protected. Now that image was cradling a cauterized stump while sheltering behind a concrete wall. But he couldn't afford to wallow in this misery. He pushed the feelings aside and focused on the task at hand.  
  
A quick glance down at where his hand once was suddenly turned into a moment of deep inspiration. "Endeavor, I have an idea."  
  
The ambient temperature rose around Endeavor as he refocused onto All Might. "Spit it out quickly." He spat the words out bitterly, aware that even as they spared just a moment to chat that all the heroes supporting the two of them were fighting their hardest. If they delayed too long on forming a plan then one of those heroes would die, possibly more.  
  
All Might never got to utter his plan out load. "Look out!" The two of them heard the unmistakable voice of Ingenium, warning them of the imminent threat.  
  
Sondok, after repelling their earlier disastrous charge, after repelling them all with repeated detonations, initiated her own counterattack. Her battle-axe tore through the cement wall between the two heroes with devastating force, forcing them to duck and roll to avoid injury. If they had waited just a moment too late, she could have easily severed both of their spines. As things were, they both rolled forwards only to encounter more explosions and more shrapnel. She was intentionally keeping them off balance as she thrust forward with her sword, axe now at the ready in a low guard position. She was fighting an entire team of the world's top heroes and had every last one of them completely on defense. Her movements were so rapid that no one could completely keep up with her.  
  
No one but Ingenium, that is. True, All Might could move faster, but such bursts of speed were especially draining. After all his sustained blood loss, All Might could feel the limits of his stamina rapidly approaching. He had to conserve his strength however possible. Ingenium had no such limits, no such injuries to contend with. Seeing this, the younger Turbo Hero figured out that he needed to distract Sondok as much as possible to provide the older more powerful heroes enough breathing room to gather their strength. He was lightning poetry in motion, forcing the villain from another world to parry and dodge amid her own onslaught of attacks, breaking her rhythm. One moment she was giving chase with explosions and readying one of her weapons, the next she was using that weapon to keep Ingenium at bay.  
  
But it wasn't enough. Over time she was wearing the heroes down. They were becoming exhausted. Even Endeavor, fresh to the fight, could not produce enough fire to effectively burn or deter the mad woman. She was crazy enough to charge through his flames or incorporate them as cover for her own explosive blasts, mingling bursts of green fire and shrapnel into his giant gales of crimson fire. His fire did seem to damage her, but she moved fast enough that he could not focus on her with a sustained blast. Singed, she refused to burn. Laughing, she stormed through his fires to get close to him, bringing with her those baleful weapons that tore through flesh and concrete with equal ease. As a result, Endeavor's Quirk was largely neutralized, as his fires prevented Ingenium, All Might or the other heroes from moving freely, thereby providing accidental cover for Sondok to charge through.  
  
Frustrated, Endeavor unleashed a storm of fire at her once he confirmed no other hero would be in the blast zone. He spread the fire wide enough that no matter where she dodged, she'd still be inside the flame. He completely immersed her in the fire, obscuring her from all vision, but finally he knew the bitch had to be burned. This was it! They finally had her pinned!  
  
And then, from within the fire, all of them could hear her laughing. It was a haunting, insane noise. It was trill yet commanding, impossibly loud, drowning out the roaring fire. And then, it abruptly stopped.  
  
Hair ablaze, she charged forward, coming face to face with Endeavor even as he produced more fire. Even as he propelled himself backward, she loomed into the forefront of his vision as she prepared to skewer him with one thrust of her sword. Her axe was ready at her side, ready to swing and decapitate him once he was secured onto the end of her other blade. There was no need for her to be so thoroughly cruel, so playful with her prey, but she was, nonetheless. A simple one hit kill would not please her, he realized. She needed to see the pain, the loss, and the ultimate resignation in the eyes of her prey. Endeavor was glad that he had told his children that he loved them before coming here. He knew that this was the likely outcome. He just hoped he could take the bitch down with him.  
  
He prepared himself to embrace her in hellfire, knowing that he would only have a single instance once pierced by her sword, before her axe would take his head. In that moment he would focus all his heat, all his flames, onto her. In a tight hold he would pour his power into producing the hottest most concentrated fire he had ever mustered. He would incinerate her. And hopefully, he'd live to tell about it. It was a distant hope.  
  
Somehow, he knew that his daughter and son were watching. He hoped they'd be proud of him. With his children on his mind, he poured less of his fire into his retreat and focused instead on building power deep within. He hoped it appeared to be natural hesitation as he backed towards the edge of the building, hoping to entice her into carelessness.  
  
Time seemed to slow down. "This is it," he thought. "This is how it ends. This is my final blaze of glory."  
  
To one side he saw All Might charge in. Endeavor vaguely heard his lifelong rival's extended shout of "No!" as the other hero moved at lightning speed to intercept Sondok. However, she was just as fast as the Symbol of Peace, and with a single upswing of her axe she repelled him just long enough to continue towards her target. Even after leaning back to avoid being killed, Endeavor watched with awe and appreciation as All Might leaned back in, allowing the blade of that axe to cut deep into his right shoulder, as though to sacrifice more of his arm in an effort to save Endeavor's life. But with a flick of her wrist the axe re-angled towards Toshinori's neck, forcing him to retreat away from the blade. All Might came to a complete stop, allowing Sondok to continue towards Endeavor. She was close enough now that Endeavor could see distant stars in a red sky, a vista of an unknown world hidden within her eyes. It was beautiful and terrifying, as was the certainty of his upcoming death.  
  
"You tried," Endeavor thought. "You tried, and I appreciate that. Perhaps, if things had played out differently, we could have been more than just rivals." The fires burned hotter now inside of him, hotter than he had ever dared make them before. He could feel his organs objecting at the heat induced stress he tortured them with. If he could make it last, just stoke the fires a little longer, then this would all be worth it.  
  
Sondok's sword came into sharp focus. It was pointed directly at Endeavor's chest; no doubt it would pierce his heart and his left lung in a single strike. With her monstrous strength this woman could then swing the blade through him, effectively cutting his head and shoulders away from his torso. He'd be dead in a single instant. He would have less than one second to burn her head into ash.  
  
Endeavor no longer had any illusion that he would live through this. Even as All Might chased her from behind, she gained speed and momentum. Even as Cementoss threw wall after wall in her path, she moved so fast that she practically danced on them like a skipping game of no consequence. Her iron teeth were grandly revealed as she smiled at him, a smile that said that this has been a fun game, but I win now. And it is time for you to die.  
  
A blur came in from the other side, opposite of the direction All Might had tried to intercept from, opposite of her axe, which even now was raised up from when she had fended off the Symbol of Peace. The movement was a complete blur. Other than All Might and now Sondok, Endeavor had never seen anything, or anyone, move that fast. He barely could process what was happening, but obviously Sondok could. Her eyes refocused, her posture shifted ever so slightly, and her sword changed its aim at the last fraction of a second.  
  
Endeavor had forgotten about Ingenium. Sondok had not.  
  
His armor helped maintain his mystery and his dignity, as well as hide his pain. Ingenium charged in recklessly and did not deviate from his path, not even when Sondok changed her aim from Endeavor to the younger Turbo Hero. Ingenium continued, placing himself firmly in Sondok's way and ultimately preventing her charge from reaching Endeavor. The younger man threw himself into harm's way as a shield for the older hero behind him, and had done so without a single flinch of hesitation.  
  
Before Endeavor could process what this truly meant, Sondok's sword had already stabbed cleanly into the younger man's armor, through his torso, and back out the other side. She had skewered him in a single thrust, and in just another moment her axe would move to finish him off. Endeavor could not see where exactly Ingenium had been stabbed, nor did he know what vital organs were damaged, but he saw the man's resolve.  
  
Ingenium used both of his arms to grip onto Sondok's sword-bearing hand and wrist, and then used his built-in elbow thrusters against her strength, keeping her arm as stationary as possible. Uttering something between a growl of fury and a cry of agony, the young man held firm. As Sondok reared up to swing her axe against him, Ingenium did not budge. With his thrusters on full blast and his legs locked in position, even her amazing strength could not dislodge him.  
  
It was then that the only person faster than Ingenium finally had the opening he needed. All Might grappled Sondok from behind. His severed right arm was still powerful enough to help grapple her axe wielding arm, while his left threatened to crush her body in a vice grip. At last she was trapped.  
  
With a scream of rage, Sondok refused to yield. Explosions rocked around the three of them, locked in together. Repeated concussive blasts showered all of them with a hailstorm of fine metallic debris. Their skins pocked and penetrated, the shrapnel dug into their flesh at multiple entry points. Even as she was caught in her own blasts and harmed by the brass shards, Sondok did not relent.  
  
Yet even as they were rocked by her explosions and showered with brass, even as they bled from hundreds of tiny cuts all over their bodies, All Might and Ingenium still held. Even as the blade in his gut vibrated with the struggle between Ingenium and Sondok, he still held. But both men were horribly injured, All Might with a missing hand and Ingenium thoroughly impaled. The other heroes were simply too far away to offer aid before this monstrous woman would break free.  
  
It was all up to Endeavor now. He had no time to think. He had to act. All the heat he had built up was unleashed into his palms, which he then pressed hard to either side of Sondok's face. He unleashed enough concentrated fire to melt metal, to render flesh and bone alike into ash, and to hopefully kill this bitch. Protocol be damned, the growing burns on his palms from unleashing this much heat be damned. Lastly, damn this woman and all the cameras above them too. This bitch needed to burn, and Endeavor was the perfect match.  
  
To her credit, Endeavor watched as she let go of the sword through Ingenium's gut and tried to push him away. But Ingenium would not let go so easily. If not for her ungodly strength, strength that reminded Endeavor of All Might's own power, then Ingenium might have been able to hold on. But she struck him hard, knocking the Turbo Hero away where he landed hard on his side. Endeavor hoped the younger man would live, but he could not afford to spare him a glance.  
  
She screamed a bestial cry of rage as she beat her fist repeatedly into Endeavor's shoulder. He knew that bone was breaking with each of her blows. But he held on. She kicked out with one leg to knock him off balance, but he merely held on tighter to her face and turned the heat up. Still, All Might bought Endeavor precious time by altering his hold of Sondok, who even now refused to be taken out without dealing severe collateral damage to both heroes within her reach.  
  
Even as All Might's newfound hold restrained her arms, she still broke the man's nose by throwing her head back into his. Endeavor however had to contend with her haunting eyes as she stared unflinchingly at him even as the sides of her face burned and gave way to ash. The process was taking far longer than Endeavor would have guessed, implying that she was built to withstand even volcanic levels of heat. But still, she burned.  
  
"This is not over, human." She spat the words out at him before, at long last, the fire consumed her entire face. As her face and skull reduced to fine ash, her eyes lingered far longer than should have been natural. Endeavor was lost in those eyes, staring beyond them into a frightening blood red sky of alien and abhorrent stars. Yet despite her veiled threat, the fight was indeed over. Sondok was no more, her body slumping down like a headless doll even as her charred skull was stuck in Endeavor's grasp. Blood did not escape her cauterized neck. Her body lay there, lifeless, while her golden crown clattered off what remained of her head onto the ground. And though it was covered in soot, it was completely unharmed by the battle and untarnished by Endeavor's fire.  
  
Panting for breath and bleeding in more places than either would care to acknowledge, All Might and Endeavor shared a glance before rushing to check on Ingenium. All three of them had sustained far more damage from Sondok than any other hero present. But as Endeavor feared, Ingenium lay cold on that rooftop. He had lost a lot of blood. Endeavor checked the younger man's neck for a pulse, but it was a faint, weak heartbeat that answered his fingers.  
  
An armored glove moved to grasp onto Endeavor's hand. All Might knelt nearby, calling through the comm systems for immediate evacuation and trauma assistance. That left the job of tending to the Turbo Hero's immediate needs to Endeavor. "Easy, son. You saved the day back there. You know that, right? We all… I certainly would have died if not for you."  
  
It was like the younger man could not even hear him. "Tell my brother…"  
  
Endeavor could feel Ingenium's grip growing weak.  
  
"Tell him… to become... the next Ingenium." And with those words, Ingenium suddenly let go of Endeavor's hand and went limp.  
  
In a panic, Endeavor checked the man's pulse one more time. No. It wasn't there. It wasn't there! "All Might!" Endeavor rarely called for help with such abandon. But here he was, feeling the last remnant of life belonging to the younger hero fade; the hero who had just saved the life of Endeavor. It was unfair. It was unjust. The idea that the young should die so that the older generation could live on; it was too cruel.  
  
As All Might, Endeavor, and other nearby heroes scrambled to save Ingenium, they all failed to notice that Sondok's charred skull and headless body quickly deteriorated into nothing but silver sand, which fled with the wind.

  


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The situation was completely insane. One moment, Izuku was running alongside Adorjan, a veritable titan of wind and madness. But now he was running from her. With his newfound speed he vainly hoped to outpace her, or at least to keep away until she grew bored. But every time he glanced over his shoulder; he saw her clearly keeping pace with him. Where he was using every bit of strength he had, she was relaxed. In his deepest gut he knew she could outrun him. She could turn into wind and outpace him several times over, multiplying her speed far beyond even his current capabilities. Her knife had never been placed back in its scabbard, and now she wielded it to shred him to ribbons.  
  
He had no idea what had set her off, what tiny instance had shifted her mood. She offered no explanation as she turned on him, slashing at the air he had instinctively dodged from. Thankfully he had that power now, to dodge her attacks. There was no rational reason he could think of that explained it to him, that he could dodge an opponent that was clearly faster than him. But so long as he maintained his speed, he could outpace her dagger even if he couldn't outpace her. Even when she sent forth gale winds to attack him, he rolled and dodged to the side. Logic dictated that this was not possible. His own movements were not possible. One moment he'd be running at his new top speed, the next rolling to the side at speeds far exceeding his new limits, and then back to running from a new starting point at his previous pace. All he knew was that each time he dodged, each time he outpaced himself and defied all logic of movement, he could feel that great energy well inside of him diminish. It was like each dodge dipped a small bucket into that well, only to cast the precious water onto the sands around him. He instinctively knew that once the well within him ran dry, the energy would be gone, and with it his ability to outpace her dagger or to dodge her winds. While he was physically fine, he knew that each of her attacks were a drain on his resources, whittling him down into a defenseless target on the dunes. It was only a matter of time before he'd bleed out across the sand.  
  
He glanced over his shoulder and found Adorjan was no longer there. This did not reassure him. She most likely had abandoned her feminine body to become something far more ephemeral and deadly. His worrisome thoughts were distracting enough that he almost ran headlong into a wall of arrowheads, but he banked his turn just in time. Immediately after, Izuku found himself surrounded. He was now in the eye of a great storm, dry and lifeless yet a storm, nonetheless. The chase was over. Adorjan had him trapped. Other than running in circles he had nowhere to go. Wafts of crimson and light rushed through the exterior wall of wind and arrowheads surrounding him. The air was filled with a heavy bleeding silence, one that promised that his screams would be stifled into his throat as he died.  
  
"Kill." He heard a whisper in his ear. Izuku turned only to be blinded by harsh white light rushing around him. He was inundated and buffeted on harsh wind. He dodged inward towards the eye to escape but remained disoriented. He was too dazed to consider that he had crossed through the wind to this place without touching any of the intervening space.  
  
Standing alone and still in the epicenter, his eyes eventually rediscovered sight after agonizing blindness overtook him. He was no longer alone. Izuku looked about him to see… Izuku. No matter which direction he looked, he was greeted with the familiar sight that had greeted him each morning for years when he'd head to the bathroom and see his own reflection. There were multiple copies of himself, seven to be precise. Each was as nude as he was, and each seemed just as lost as he felt. Like him they were all changed from his original picture of himself, but he still recognized his own face. They were all his height, yet from the comparison he could see they were all taller and leaner that he remembered himself to be. They each bore the same full body tan that afflicted him, and the same green eyes and messy hair that he intimately knew as his own.  
  
"What's happening?" One said off to his left. The other Izukus looked about with anxiety.  
  
"It's ok." Another one offered words of comfort. "It looks like we've been split into multiple people. We'll figure this out. We're going to get out of here together." Yes, he had thought of saying the same thing.  
  
"What's the last thing you all remember? We need to see if we all match on the inside too. This could be a trick." He asked out loud, attracting the attention of the others.  
  
One jogged a bit in his direction. To his eyes the movement was sluggish. Didn't they all have the same capabilities? Weren't they all the same person? "I remember running from Adorjan, and being surrounded… and then that flash of light." The runner offered up. Others assented that their version of events matched, so their memories seemed to be the same.  
  
It was odd that the wind that surrounded them did not close in to kill them all. Izuku knew that it easily could. Judging by the anxiety he could see on their faces… the other Izuku's faces… all of them were painfully aware of this as well.  
  
"Kill. Or be killed." Adorjan's whisper, louder to them than any shout could ever be, was accompanied by gradual tightening of the circle of death that surrounded them. She was nowhere and everywhere, whispering directly into each of their ears, left and right, into the deepest darkest parts of their minds. But what worried all of them was that she had them surrounded. The eight of them were at her mercy. Izuku, whichever among them was the real Izuku, was at her mercy. She was not giving them time to figure out their situation, their identity, or much else.  
  
The situation was obvious. Their captor intended that they all kill each other for her amusement, or perhaps for some sick lesson she wanted to impart to the survivor. There was no guarantee though that the survivor would be allowed to live. No promises had been made, and Izuku doubted any would be offered. There would be no negotiation.  
  
"Kill." Again the ring of whirling death moved in tighter around them, closing in by a full meter. Was there a way out of this death trap? He swore to himself that he wouldn't pray to Cecelyne for aid, but perhaps this was a situation that called for it.  
  
"Oh god no…" He heard one of his copies mutter behind him, yet the quiet words carried well in the whirlwind of silence. It was a bad habit that he recalled casting away, cut out from his heart like so much else. He set that thought aside and focused, turning his head and attention to the speaker. The other Izuku had his hand on his forehead and a look of unspeakable horror on his face. Of course the situation was dire, but something beyond the immediate problem was bothering this particular iteration of Izuku.  
  
"What's wrong?" He and another copy asked simultaneously, using the same voice but slightly different inflections. It was unnerving.  
  
The horror-struck Izuku removed his hand from where it rested on his face and pointed back to where it just was resting on his forehead. "I don't have the jewel Cecelyne gave me… gave us… only he has it…"  
  
Izuku looked around to see more and more eyes searching like his, confirming what the other Izuku had just said. He saw nothing on any of their foreheads. Out of instinct he reached and touched his own to find a hard but smooth gem embedded into his skin. He was the only one that had one. "If I'm the only one with the gem…"  
  
"Then you're the only one of us that's real." Another said. This one walked up to face him head on. "The rest of us are copies made from you. You're real, and we're not." Watching his face, Izuku could feel the horrible weight of the words. The idea of being a fake, a copy, had occurred to him. His own relief was matched by the existential horror of all the others around him. It was terrible and cruel, but they had all been created just now only to die gruesomely. Either they would all kill each other, a positively horrifying thought, or they would be caught in the maddening winds of death that even now were closing in.  
  
"Wait!" Another spoke up, this one from off to his right… he had lost track of which was which. Izuku could not remember which one had first pointed out the lack of gems on any of their foreheads. "We're all copies… but that doesn't mean we're not real! We're all still people! We have feelings, bodies, and dreams… all of it! We're all just as much Izuku as the original!" This other self desperately pleaded with the others. "We all have just as much right to live as he does!"  
  
And there it was, the dropped gauntlet. The philosophical debate in the heart of a blender: who among them had the right to continue living? Did any of them? There was no assurance that any of them would continue living past this.  
  
"Izuku." Another copy spoke up, addressing him. Others turned as well out of instinct, but his eyes and posture made it clear who he was speaking to. "You don't have to die. You should pray to Cecelyne. Ask her to rescue you." His determination was pragmatically grim.  
  
"Kill." The voice in their hearts thrummed as the spinning blades of death circled closer.  
  
Izuku considered the suggestion. He could pray himself into debt but doing so would allow him to live. The others here would die, likely quickly, but painfully. He could move on and tell himself that none of their blood was on his hands, but he would also be responsible for abandoning them. "If I leave, then Adorjan will shred you all to bits. It will not be a pleasant way to die."  
  
The others understood. None of them felt comfortable with the idea of letting the others die. Life was precious to each of them. They were all the same person. Those facts had coalesced into a fraternal bond shared by all of them. They all knew each other better than they knew anyone else in their lives, like a giant set of identical twin brothers.  
  
The copy of Izuku that had asked him to leave walked right up to him. "You've noticed it too though, right? You have the gem… and none of us are as fast as you… or as smart. Whatever Adorjan copied of you, she didn't copy everything. None of us have the gifts of either Cecelyne or Adorjan… just the superficial tan…" The copy turned to look around at some of the other. "Is anyone else here thirsty? Hungry? Do any of you feel hot?"  
  
The others shrugged or nodded their assent. All of them had thirst and hunger. All of them, despite the winds surrounding them, felt the stinging heat of the Green Sun. Izuku himself felt none of these things as poignantly as the rest of them did. That could only mean one thing, that none of them had the Charms of Cecelyne aiding their ability to survive. Even if they all got out of this death trap, they would all die within a matter of one or two days due to dehydration and sun exposure. All of them truly were born minutes ago solely for the purpose of being killed.  
  
And judging from the thoughtful and shocked expressions cascading across the group, they had all figured it out. Some merely arrived at these conclusions faster than the others. "So, Izuku. We're all doomed. You aren't. You need to live."  
  
"Kill." The voice of Adorjan intoned deep into their ears and minds.  
  
"I'm not abandoning you!" Izuku shouted. He didn't think about it hard. It just wasn't right to abandon your twin brother… even if they were a fake created minutes ago. "We're all going to figure this out!"  
  
The other Izuku, the one who lead them all to a fatalistic comprehension of their situation, smiled sadly. "I want you to know that… from the outside looking at you, you saying that… that's actually really heroic." He sighed sadly, even as the others nodded. "But there's no time. She's closing in around us. We don't know how long it will take Cecelyne to come and save you. She'd have to get past Adorjan. So, you need to act quickly."  
  
"No." Izuku declared, unflinching.  
  
Neither of them noticed that a member of the group had strayed from the others, wandering threateningly close to the edge of their haven. "You're all wasting time! I'm not going to kill anyone… and I don't want any of you to have to kill me… tell mom that I love her!"  
  
Izuku widened his eyes in shock. His body moved before he could even think. Rushing forward, he reached out to grasp at the copy of himself.  
  
"Kill." Adorjan intoned as the whirling mass of blades closed in further, swallowing up the stray version of Izuku into the spinning gale of death. His scream lasted only a moment before it was drowned in deathly silence, despite his writhing and suffering. The rest watched, helplessly, as their fraternal copy was torn apart before their eyes. The only comfort was that he did not live long through the process, dead long before his body scattered through the gale as organic debris. But the sight was gruesome, his skin flayed, followed rapidly by muscle, viscera, organs, and bone.  
  
Izuku had stopped himself just short of that terrible vision. He watched all of it happen less than a meter in front of him. He saw the moment the pain overwhelmed his copy, the moment death finally released him from his agony. He watched helplessly as the body was scattered, torn apart by the wind.  
  
But the agony did not end there. It had only just begun. Izuku was knocked backward, or more accurately fell back as he recoiled with pain. He felt his own body being torn apart, blood being pulled from his veins by the wind just before the blood vessels themselves were pulled and cut. He felt his skin stretch, tear, and lacerate, followed by his muscles. He felt everything, just as his copy had moments before. Then he saw everything, from the moment the copy was made to the moment of his death. He recalled feeling his own forehead to find the gem gone, the existential horror of realizing that he was a copy. He felt the meaninglessness of a temporary slaughter-cattle existence. He felt keenly the determination to kill himself, hoping that his own sacrifice would end the debate. And he was filled with remorse that these horrible emotions were the last things his copy had felt before dying, that his end was so violent and painful.  
  
He rolled, dodging in towards the gathering of the others as the winds drew in closer to them, a curtain closing in toward the end of their lives. Again, the same voice, and again the same one worded commandment. As Izuku rose to face them, the six remaining copies displayed enough horror and agony that he knew they had all shared in the memories of the fallen copy. And in that shared moment of sorrow Izuku knew that he could not abandon even one more of them to such a gruesome death, and none of them would ask him to do so again.  
  
"Izuku, come here." He said, gesturing to the copy that stood closest to him over. The request could not have been surprising, nor the motivation behind it. There was no malice or subterfuge, but a grim determination. The other Izuku stepped closer to the original. Awkwardly, the two embraced. The embarrassment the copy felt faded quickly. They didn't cry, but mourned, nonetheless. The weaker copy rested his head on Izuku's shoulder. Izuku stood there, a pillar of support for his younger brother to lean on. They were all his little brothers. He wouldn't abandon them to die so horribly.  
  
That didn't make what he had to do any easier, not for any of them.  
  
"Are you ready?" He asked. He felt his other self nod.  
  
The others recoiled in shock as Izuku moved his copy into a stranglehold. The difference in their physical abilities was obvious. Despite the similarities in their bodies, Izuku could rely on a wellspring of power that the others simply did not have. In a few moments, far shorter than if he had relied solely on his mortal strength, Izuku rendered his copy unconscious. Once he confirmed that the copy was out cold, Izuku snapped his doppelganger's' neck, releasing a disturbing cracking sound that seemed to echo with consequence. Amid the pervasive silence the sound was deafening. It was over far faster and far less poetically than the end of a life should be. He let the body rest gently on the desert floor before standing and turning to face the others. His stomach clenched with a sickening feeling of fullness, a discomfort that he ignored for the sake of those around him. He did not want to contemplate what that sensation could be, and told himself that by killing he simply was making himself sick.  
  
"Are any of the rest of you ready?" He asked. The other Izukus were obviously scared, but thankfully none of them were angry or in denial about the situation. They all understood.  
  
That moment was disrupted by the feeling of being suffocated. Izuku nearly fell to his knees with an inability to breathe… but this time the ending was bittersweet. The emotions of being embraced by your source, by your… father. Where he looked at them like they were his little brothers, the dead copy looked up to him like he was their guardian, their parent.  
  
He rose, unwilling to let them down. Five more times. He had to do this, to kill them as mercifully as he could. Five more times. For them, he would do this. He would do this for them, and be the big brother, the father, that they would never have otherwise. They were made by Adorjan to die. The least he could do would be to make the ending as pain free as possible. That would be the only love these poor little brothers of his would know that wasn't scavenged from his own memories.  
  
He told himself he would cry later. For now, he would be strong. He opened his arms to another copy, taking the time to put him at ease.  
  
"Kill." The whisper of Adorjan grew more urgent as the wall of death closed in around them, and Izuku felt the young man in his arms tense up with fear.  
  
Izuku patted his copy gently on the back of his head. "It'll be ok. She won't hurt you. I won't let her." The words did not have their full intended effect. He felt the wracking dry sob more than he heard it. Izuku held onto him gently, letting him have a moment to mourn his own imminent death. But then, grimly, he stifled his other self, cutting off their ability to breathe as he put pressure onto their neck. With terrible strength, he stifled them into unconsciousness.  
  
As he broke the neck of his copy, he thought about how unfair it was that the doppelganger had been alive for less than an hour. Wracked by his own echoes of the copy's memories, he swore he would get revenge for each of them, and to live his life to the fullest for each of their sakes. That is, if he somehow survived this himself.

  



	8. The Monster is Coming

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Up until a few minutes ago, Uraraka Ochako was having a pretty good day.  
  
As far as she knew she had aced her English test earlier as well as her Calculus test. She was confident she'd do well on the Japanese History test later this week. When she got home after school, the letter to her from UA University had arrived. It informed her that she would be allowed to take their entrance exam this fall in her application for the upcoming academic year, beginning in April. She knew she would have to keep several other schools in mind as well, given how hard that test would be. So, from an academic perspective, this had been an amazing day.  
  
But then she looked at the rest of the mail. Most of it was the assortment of advertisements and bills ubiquitous to modern life. Buy this. Pay that. Rinse and repeat. But there was a worrying number of notices from collection agencies, as well as court notices and letters from their insurance company. There were even some letters from a few law firms. All those letters were to her father. It was a troubling reminder of how bad things had gotten for them as a family.  
  
Her parents didn't like talking about the family's finances with her in the room, but she knew. They tried to hide how it affected them, but she knew. They were in bankruptcy, or at least in the process of filing for it. They had already sold their house and moved into a small one-bedroom apartment, as well as the family car and several of the company work trucks. The only vehicle they held onto was her father's personal work truck. His empire of contract work had shrunk back down into a one-man handyman business.  
  
Ochako's mother had tried to tell her that they wanted their daughter to learn a good work ethic and to provide for her own future. That was their excuse for not having her on the family cell phone plan, for no longer putting money into her tuition savings account, and lastly for asking her to pay her share of the utility bill. The truth was they couldn't afford to do any of those things to support her anymore. She remembered listening through the paper thin walls of their apartment to her mother crying; the poor woman had given a brave speech about how working for her own future would make Ochako into a stronger woman, only to break down into tears once she believed her daughter was asleep.  
  
Now that her mother had taken a second job, Ochako often got home before her parents could sort through the mail. It was only this fact that let her understand the severe gravity of what the two of them were going through. She knew that it had all started about three years ago with an insurance claim citing poor workmanship from her father's company. Apparently, one of the guys her dad had hired used the wrong grade of concrete for a retaining wall meant to hold up a hill. As a result, the wall didn't hold, and several houses had slid downhill.  
  
As the employer, ultimate responsibility fell onto her father's shoulders, and he was too honorable to do anything but take the blame head on. He tried to take on the work to repair what his employees had broken, and to do it below cost. He even negotiated with the client and insurance companies together to make the client whole again. But his reputation as a contractor was already ruined. No one wanted to hire his company. In the end he had to let go of everyone on his team, including his best friends. Now he was just a local handyman. She figured out that he did that just so that creditors couldn't garner his wages.  
  
Determined to make the lives of her parents better, Ochako had a plan. She was going to work part time for now so that she could cover tuition costs for herself, which thankfully was possible given how public universities were heavily subsidized. She was going to start a career as a professional hero, a faster track towards a high paying career than becoming a lawyer or a doctor. And then, once that was done, she would make sure that her parents had a house again, just like the one they had raised her in. She'd make sure they had a car again, just like the one they used to drive down to the beach with her. She'd make sure her family had the best medical insurance possible, so that they could get better care than the public insurance plans provided. She'd make sure that their lives were as comfortable as the life they had given her for so many years. As their only child, she felt this was her mission, and it was one she took on gladly.  
  
That's what she kept telling herself, that this was her mission. Repeating that mantra in her head as she dressed, as she walked, and eventually as she rode the train, she barely noticed wafts of smoke trailing up toward the sky, rising from a point south of her route to work. Then, after arriving at the café, her work life collided with her personal life in an unpleasant reminder of how much she was sacrificing. There at table three was Sousuke, the cutest boy in her class. He was leanly muscled and had a hard edge to his personality but was generous and kind once you got to know him. Across from him was Kaname, a girl she barely knew.  
  
Ochako bitterly resented that she had turned him down for a date this past week. Every day he offered to take her out she was scheduled to work, and she couldn't imagine herself juggling a relationship alongside work and school. Out of the three it was her personal life that she chose to drop, letting the other two aspects dominate her life. And now here was a great guy she previously had a shot with, who had flirted with her and who she reciprocated… or wanted to reciprocate with at least.  
  
She stuffed those feelings down, smoothed out her French maid uniform, and approached them. Needlessly she introduced herself as per protocol. "Have you both had a chance to look over our menu?" She asked with far more happiness than she felt.  
  
She watched as instant recognition passed over his features, as well as several other emotions. As many issues as she had with her looks and self-confidence, the reaction she garnered at work told her that she pulled off the maid cosplay perfectly. But then the moment passed. "Miss Uraraka, I didn't know you worked here. Kaname, this is my classmate, Miss Uraraka. Miss Uraraka, this is my girlfriend, Kaname." He introduced the two to each other without a moment of awkwardness and made his allegiance clear from the moment he opened his mouth.  
  
He didn't even have the decency to blush at how hot Ochako looked in her outfit, she thought glumly to herself. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Is all she said.  
  
"Likewise." The longhaired beauty stated simply. It was the only reply Ochako felt she'd likely get. A wall of words was raised between them, on one side they were clients, and Ochako the worker was on the other. "I'd like a jasmine milk tea, please. Oh, and a slice of truffle cheesecake."  
  
"I'd like an omelet rice, and the prosciutto and melon please… oh, and an iced coffee. Please." The wall was raised here as well, with politeness added as a mere afterthought. Their brief social interaction over, Ochako reverted completely into the role of a maid-waitress and saw to their order.  
  
She was saved from the awkwardness she felt by the bell on the door, only to be thrown into a brand-new fire of suffering.  
  
She turned to see a tall beautiful young woman, perhaps a year older than Ochako, with elegant yet casual clothes, dark eyes, smooth light skin, and straight black hair. She was a classical Japanese beauty with generous curves, a gorgeous defiance of foreign stereotypes. She was the type of woman that turned the heads of men as she walked by. Being near her made Ochako feel short. Where this woman's figure was generous like an elongated hourglass, Ochako felt like her own curves were all scrunched into too small an amount of space. Although their bustlines were similar in size, Ochako felt like her own just made her look fat, whereas the breasts on this beauty merely accentuated her height and her thinner proportions. Add to that her expensive looking purse and designer brand clothing, and Ochako could not have been more jealous.  
  
The hostess was seating another customer in a separate section, so greeting the new client fell to Ochako. As per the rules, Ochako performed a curtsy instead a traditional bow. "Welcome to the French Press. May I escort you and your party to your table, madam?"  
  
The tall girl smiled. "Oh, it will be just me. Could I please have a seat by the front window? I'd like to read and it's the perfect light for it."  
  
With exaggerated politeness Ochako guided the woman to the table with the best illumination from the window. As the woman reached into her purse, Ochako expected to see a light novel on a tablet application. Instead a hefty book entitled 'The History of Greek Philosophy' was brought out from the darkness. "That's quite a book… are you studying Philosophy at UA University, madam?"  
  
Opening to a bookmarked passage at least a hundred pages into the thick volume, the customer smiled and remarked, "Oh I'm not a student there yet, but I am in town to look at their campus. This here is just for fun." She patted the book almost affectionately. "I've been taking an interest in the classics. Lately I've been stuck on the arguments of Aristotle regarding the Ship of Theseus."  
  
Ochako had no idea what ship she was talking about, but at least she knew who Aristotle was. "So… what about the ship is so interesting?"  
  
The young woman perked up as though jolted by an electric current, suddenly far more animated than she was before. "Oh it's a fascinating allegory, and one of the first of its kind in recorded history! You see, on a legendary journey Theseus' ship was damaged repeatedly, so they had to make many stops for repairs at various harbors in the Mediterranean. By the end of the journey, not a single plank of wood, or nail, or rope from the ship's original construction was left. The argument we are left with is: is it the same ship now that every single part has been replaced, or is it a different ship that has merely inherited the role of the ship it gradually replaced? They share a name and a purpose, but with every single facet of the ship overwritten or rebuilt, can they truly be considered the same ship?"  
  
The sense of academic joy that suffused the woman's aura was endearing. Ochako decided then and there that this was a likable person. Anyone that was willing to talk this way to their waitress was a better-quality person than average. "That's interesting. I'm going to have to go with it being a new ship. I mean, when a house is remodeled that means that there was a portion of it left from its original construction. But it's considered a rebuild if there's no materials from the original house in the new construction."  
  
The young lady could not have been more excited by Ochako's reply. "That's a good point! But, using a house again, what if the house was remodeled several times, and each time only one room was replaced. Eventually, the entire house was rebuilt, but no one remodeling can be characterized as a rebuild. Is it a new house, or did the nature of the original house simply grow and change?"  
  
Ochako liked the thoughtful inclusion of her previous point and the back and forth nature of this woman's speaking style. Neither of them could be wrong nor right, but instead were building something together. It was lovely. "Interesting. Like if a family needed to add more rooms as they had more children, and they didn't want to move. That's why they slowly change the house they live in… or the ship they're traveling on… to suit them, one change at a time. So, in that case, yeah, I see how it could still be called the same house. But… we're not just talking about ships and houses, are we?"  
  
A spark seemed to ignite between them, leaping from one set of eyes to another. "No, we are not." The woman's reply was calm on the exterior but there was frenetic intellectual energy burning underneath her words. "We're talking about people, the changes we go through. If you take someone and through the experiences that shape them, slowly alter them until there is a marked difference in who they are, are they really the same person? Say you take an innocent man and put him in a prison or a war zone, and the trauma alters his perspective on life radically, can he be called the same man from before that experience marked him?"  
  
So that's what they were talking about: personal identity. What constituted a change to someone that would be so dramatic that you couldn't see them as the same person anymore? It was a heavy enough topic that Ochako wished her Quirk could make it lighter and easier to deal with, but sadly she could only alter the gravitational pull on physical mass, not weighty subjects of conjecture. "That's a deep question. I'd be happy to continue but… do you want to order anything? I can come back after I check on my other table." Ochako asked with only some anxiety as they were nearing the rush hour, and yet only two tables in her section were seated. Something seemed off but she couldn't place what it was.  
  
"Oh! Thank you. Um…" The woman getting flustered as she scanned their menu made her seem less perfect and even more relatable. "Oh! I'll have a large chai latte, the quiche Lorraine, and then… a Napoleon for dessert!" And suddenly she was not relatable at all, as Ochako wondered how she maintained such an amazing figure while eating like a cow.  
  
Using the curtsy that was mandatory for her continued employment, Ochako said she'd attend to the order straight away. That offer, however, was cut off when another customer entered. Everything about her was vivacious and loud, from her hair to her clothes to her infectious smile. She had pink hair, pink skin, black white-less eyes with yellow irises, and her head was crowned by two small yellow curved horns. The way she was dressed it was clear she intended to go dancing at a club later, as she was wearing an outfit that legally should be considered area-effect flirting. Even Ochako, as straight as she considered herself, had to admit the form fitting jeans this woman wore so low on her hips made her butt look amazing. Ochako was also mildly jealous of the belly button piercing displayed on the pink skin of her toned abdominal muscles.  
  
The hostess was moving to seat her in the other section when the woman spoke up, "No, no. If it's not too much of a bother I'd really like to sit near the window. I want to see my boyfriend before he walks right past this place." Ochako swore there was a quiet 'teehee' interjected at the end of that statement, but it couldn't be completely proven. The way she emphasized the word boyfriend told everyone in the restaurant that this was a new relationship. No doubt they would make inappropriate public displays of affection, if the pink woman's clothing and personality were any indication.  
  
And being at the window meant she was in Ochako's section. Great. Another customer, another curtsy. "Welcome to the French Press. Do you need time to look over the menu?"  
  
"Oh, I'll have a strong Thai Tea please, actually make that two." She said nonchalantly as she got her smartphone out from her fake-gem-encrusted purse, which also shone with the same bejeweled coverage on the phone case. The implicit statement was obvious: I'm not planning on sleeping this evening, and I have a whole night to plan with my new man.  
  
Ochako decided that this woman was adorably annoying but admitted to herself that she'd probably behave the same way under the circumstances. If she could afford the time and expenses to have fun evenings with a love interest, she'd want to throw herself into the experience with the same live in the moment attitude that this pink bubble of energy had on display. After another curtsy she promptly attended to the order before checking on the couple at her first table.  
  
That was the moment that the day took a turn she could never have anticipated.  
  
"Sousuke, this is really bad." She overheard his date say. Her tone was hushed, but the sound carried well in the quiet of the establishment. "Some of my friends live in that neighborhood… what if one of them is in the hospital?" What? Hospital? Neighborhood? What was going on?  
  
Kaname, the girl Sousuke had brought to the café, had moved from across the table to sit next to him. But this wasn't a move for more intimacy. The two stared in rapt horror at events transpiring on the screen of her phone. Ochako swallowed down any jealousy she had over the fact that all she owned was a flip-phone. "Is everything all right?" She didn't know what else to ask.  
  
"No." Sousuke's expression was haunted. Somehow, he seemed gaunt, emaciated in that moment, despite his hale athletic health. It was as if all hope had drained from his soul. "You know that explosion earlier today? It looks like it wasn't an isolated incident…"  
  
Explosion? Earlier today?  
  
Before Ochako could respond, a shrill noise erupted from behind her. She turned to see her newest customer angrily speaking into her phone. "What do you mean you can't come?! Huh?! Eijiro, you're not making any sense. The park? Why are you and your parents at the park?" Her cheeks were puffy with rage. "The building? What? What is going on? I can't make out what you're saying." Her expression of anger was fading into one of confusion and fear as the voice on the other line continued talking to her… until suddenly he wasn't. "The line… no signal?!"  
  
Ochako noticed that whatever video Sousuke and Kaname were watching also cut off. The café didn't have a wifi router, so that meant that cell signal in the whole area was dead. She didn't bother to check her own phone, as the results would be predictable.  
  
Nearby, Ochako's other client had put her book down to examine a sudden buzzing on her phone as well, but whatever alert she was trying to respond to produced frustration rather than results. "Um, Miss?" She called Ochako over. "Could you please turn the television to the local news? I think something is happening, and it looks like there's no signal anymore." Ochako hadn't even thought about the television here in weeks. It was always turned to scenes from the French countryside and was presented more for ambiance than for entertainment. But the restaurant did have basic channels in addition to the looped set of videos.  
  
What greeted her on the news was hell on earth. She was assaulted by graphic images of explosions with debris raining down on pedestrians and passing cars, followed by a rising toll of injuries scrolling across the bottom of the screen. She barely noticed the other people in the restaurant, customer and staff alike, slowly make their way to stand next to her, transfixed by the images on the screen. For nearly an hour they caught up with events of the day.  
  
"She looks like me." She heard the despairing whisper of the pink skinned woman next to her as they both stared at the lavender skinned woman on the screen. Watching her appear from nowhere was by itself not that unusual, but what followed was one shock after another. They were appalled when she pinned the young man beneath her and then melted herself across his body, trapping him and suffocating him. When that gooey mass reformed into a nightmarish metallic shell, their shock transformed into horror. There was a boy, a young man Ochako's age, trapped inside of a strange shell on top of an apartment complex in the district southeast of the café. And no one could approach that shell without explosions detonating nearby, as though the thing had a built-in defense system. It explained the smoke Ochako had seen earlier, smoke that she dismissed in her mind at the time.  
  
Unsure of what possessed her to do it, she took the pink woman's hand in hers. The offer was received well. It turned out that her date getting cancelled due to a villain attack made her emotionally vulnerable, and that physically resembling the villain herself just added fuel to the fire. Careful to keep her pinky finger out of the grip between their hands, Ochako offered what comfort she could as they all continued to monitor the events unfolding.  
  
"Oh my god," she heard the pink girl mutter. "That's Eijiro's apartment building…" Ochako almost wanted to cry, watching the sudden transformation of a vibrant outgoing personality turn into a specter of fear and anxiety. She gave the other girl's hand a solid squeeze, just to remind her that she wasn't alone.  
  
"His poor mother." She heard her other bookworm-client remark, when the screen identified the man's mother as "Midoriya Inko, mother of Midoriya Izuku, the youth trapped in the unknown shell." No identifying information had been put forth for the villainess that had attacked him, nor had any group claimed responsibility for the attack. Ochako's heart bled for the poor woman who just wanted her son to be freed from his imprisonment. Seeing a still photo of his face placed next to the video of his mother's tear-filled face, Ochako couldn't help but feel deep empathy for the woman.  
  
But there was hope. The news anchors announced that even now a rescue operation was underway. Several Heroes, including All Might, were on the scene. The small restaurant monitor shifted to a live camera feed from a nearby news helicopter, where Gang Orca could be seen studying the shell. Ochako heaved a sigh of relief alongside several others that the young man inside was found to still be alive: slowly but steadily he was breathing, his heart continued to beat, and there was still hope for him.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sousuke trying to encourage his girlfriend, comforting her. But she continued to withdraw into herself, and even gripped her own head as though in agony. "Hey… is everything ok with her?" Ochako asked.  
  
Sousuke looked at Ochako with a brief expression of dread, a tiny slip of his mask of confidence, even as he held Kaname tightly in a soothing embrace. But his calm demeanor returned, that hard edge that Ochako originally found attractive: the image of a man able to face all the trials of the world while still gently holding onto what was dear to him. "Her Quirk is acting up… she gets whispers of the future from time to time."  
  
Quirks that could pierce the veil of time were rare. That alone got everyone's attention. But the quiet whispers of the girl in Sousuke's arms suddenly had everyone very much on edge. "The Monster is Coming." She repeated the phrase, over and over, quieter and quieter. It was a disturbing mantra to hear, and under the circumstances it was even worse. It put Ochako and the others on edge, turning with renewed apprehension towards the screen.  
  
Sure enough, things went from terrible to worse. Despite Kaname's dire mantra, none of the older teens expected to see a frightening woman appear to challenge the heroes on the rooftop. The brutal efficiency of her attack on Gang Orca and the heroes supporting him left them speechless. They all feared that he and the others were dead. Their spirits lifted when All Might jumped onto the scene, but they were troubled when they saw how the battle down on the streets fared. "They're so close to the park!" The pink girl remarked.  
  
Ochako squeezed her hand again reassuringly. "The heroes are on the scene, doing their best to protect everyone. This will turn out ok." She spoke with more confidence than she felt.  
  
The taller woman, still holding her book, joined in on reassuring her fellow patron. "With All Might and the others on the scene, they won't allow civilians to be harmed."  
  
Their reassurances fell dead in their mouths when the battle between All Might and the strange dark-haired woman commenced. No one had ever seen a villain that could fight off All Might before. She moved like water, weaving just out of his reach and then attacking with terrible ferocity of her own. Her ape like lackeys just watched. It was all unnerving.  
  
And then, in a moment they would all remember for the rest of their lives, All Might punched the giant shell off the building into the arms of Mount Lady. That moment of victory turned into despair when his hand was cut away from his arm. "No! All Might!" Ochako caught herself shouting. Her hands were both in front of her own mouth, no longer holding the hand of the woman next to her.  
  
"He's still fighting… with only one hand… All Might!" The pink woman next to her cried out, her makeup running messily down her face, driven by small rivers of emotion.  
  
The taller woman shed tears quietly, unflinchingly staring at the screen.  
  
All Might was joined by another hero, Eraserhead. The two fought valiantly, using Eraserhead's bindings to bandage All Might's wounded arm. They bought time for Ingenium, the Turbo Hero, to save the incapacitated heroes on the rooftop. Commentary during the battle confirmed that the other heroes, though grievously injured, were alive and expected to recover. The room remained anxious. No one left the building, no one ordered anything, and no one took a break from watching the screen. Instead they gathered chairs from the various tables and sat together, customers and wait staff and cook staff, all watching the news with rapt yet morbid fascination. They were all emotionally invested in the scene, and their other obligations and worries were suspended away from their minds.  
  
They gasped in horror when Eraserhead was sent flying helplessly in the enemy's direction. They cheered when Endeavor arrived to save the day, bringing half a dozen heroes with him. The room grew intensely quiet as the battle unfolded. Concrete debris flying, explosions, and the general chaos of the battle made it difficult to catch every single detail.  
  
Several screams of anguish erupted when Ingenium was stabbed through. Ochako's voice was part of that chorus. Anguish transitioned to agony when he was punched away from where All Might and Endeavor grappled with the enemy. Everyone winced with empathetic pain as Ingenium skid along the rooftop, still run through with that terrible sword. And although they cheered when the enemy was finally killed off, they knew the victory was hollow and incomplete. Ochako and the other women in the room cried openly as they watched the heroes rush in to aid Ingenium. Turning her head, Ochako saw that Sousuke was crying too, he just turned his head to avoid being obvious.  
  
But then, just as they felt this moment of victory and catharsis, that respite was taken away from them. An announcer's voice let the audience know that another member of the mysterious villain group had appeared inside the forward headquarters and had attacked a member of the Support Corps. This had apparently happened minutes ago, and only now that the fight between the heroes and the villain on the rooftop is over, did they choose to air this footage.  
  
The scene transitioned to an awkward camera angle from somewhere inside the apartment building used by the Support Corps. The audience could hear a news reporter, the one that had interviewed Midoriya Inko earlier, urge her camera crew onward to capture everything. Everything in this case meant Inko again, but now instead of an interview it was a confrontation with a horror unlike anything Ochako or anyone else in the restaurant had ever imagined. This floating creature had no central body, no discernable organs, nothing of the sort. It was a cloak of leather faces, arms, and a mask. That was it. There was no rational explanation for what they were seeing.  
  
Kaname continued to mutter her mantra. "The Monster is Coming."  
  
"No." Ochako declared with force. "Leave her alone! You monsters have put that family through enough!" She pointed at the screen through hear tears as though the gesture would aid her outburst in accomplishing something.  
  
It didn't.

  


{}

"Are you getting all of this?" Airi whispered to her camera crew. Together they huddled down, as quietly and as stealthily as possible. Nearby, several members of the support crew were working to send out signals of their own.  
  
Midoriya Inko took a rational perspective of their situation and managed to suppress any urge she had to panic. Outside and across the street from them, the heroes were fighting for survival. Sondok was keeping everyone on the rooftop far too busy. Down below the street swarmed with gigantic ape-like monsters, who acted more like a coordinated military unit than a mob of beasts. Help would not be forthcoming. That left everyone in the forward headquarters defenseless against whatever this thing was. Just outside the door were most likely two dead guards, lower ranked heroes who were assigned to protect the support team headquarters. If they weren't dead, they were incapacitated enough to not hear or respond to the screams of panic within the room. Inside, just next to her, was a communications specialist laying on the floor after blood had been drained directly through the skin of his throat.  
  
If this thing wanted to kill her and everyone else in the room, it could do so easily. That fact that the odd-looking monster wanted to talk was probably the only reason she or anyone else in the room were even alive right now. "Please, tell us what it is you want."  
  
The eyeless mask dripped with crimson fluid as it tilted to the side. The scarlet bones behind it rubbed together discordantly. "It is our intention to protect the Prince until his metamorphosis is complete, at which time we are to escort him to the Eternal City of Malfeas. Once there, he will train at the great Coliseum-Academy of Santakral, where he will perfect his combat abilities and hone his essence skills. He will be instructed in no fewer than five styles of the supernatural martial arts before being considered truly proficient; and he must master at least one of the Sacred Shintai Forms before his coronation and procession. I am here to extend a royal invitation to you as his mortal mother to live alongside him at the palace of the All Thing, where he will reside during his early regency. There you will both have every need met and shall want for nothing. Every luxury imaginable shall be afforded to you and to your son, the shining Prince."  
  
The short speech explained almost nothing to Inko. None of these foreign concepts came with the necessary context or definition. "Tell me more about the metamorphosis. What are you doing to my son?" It took every ounce of self-control to ask that question as calmly and evenly as she did.  
  
The thing seemed happy to elaborate, disturbingly so. "The metamorphosis is a fascinating process. On a purely essentialist level, his soul is being reshaped in order to permanently attach the Primordial Exaltation, fusing the two together. With this accomplished, he will be endowed with powers directly used by the Creators themselves, and will hold their Charms, their spiritual genetics if you will, inside of his soul. This is the most important part of the metamorphosis, as it will make him the most powerful being ever to grace your world, or planet if you prefer. At least to this point in time. Now, as to the physical aspects…" The creature was about to expand further but was interrupted.  
  
"Excuse me," Inko butted in, deeply concerned by what she just heard. "I want to be sure I heard you correctly. You're making him the most powerful person on the planet? As in… you're giving my son a powerful Quirk?"  
  
The eyeless mask of the creature rattled about. The gesture was foreign to Inko. Was this anger? Frustration? "Let me start over with some basic concepts." It began.  
  
Yes, that was frustration, Inko observed.  
  
It gestured towards Sondok and the heroes battling on the roof next door. "Observe Sondok, She Who Stands in the Threshold. She is a veteran of more wars than have been fought in the entire history of your world. She is currently fighting against eight of your best Quirk-users, yes?" The mask turned towards Inko again, prompting her.  
  
"Yes." She said. She winced as a rapid volley of explosions rocked the building across the street.  
  
"The Quirks of your world are derived from physical mutations in your genetic code. They are terrestrial in nature and are thus inheritable through material means. Rarely you produce pseudo-exigencies in your world, but that is another matter entirely. Sondok, like me, is not a terrestrial being. We are Devas. We are souls of higher beings, beings much larger than you humans can comprehend. Let me put it this way: you and everyone you know possesses only one body and one soul. Sondok commands many souls, as she is a Deva of the Second Circle. She in turn is a soul, one of seven, of the great Deva Ligier. Ligier in turn is a Deva of the Third Circle, alongside twenty-two others like him, who are of the order and hierarchy of Malfeas…" It stopped elaborating to observe Inko's face, and whatever it saw told it to change tactics. "I see this is confusing you. The important part is this: our power is not physical like yours is. We are spirits. You are flesh. We are immortal. You are finite. You see now why we take such offense at having our Charms confused for your Quirks?"  
  
It was then that a loud series of explosions rocked the building next door. Looking over, Inko was filled with hope as she saw Sondok grappled into a hold by All Might. She saw one of the other heroes were severely injured, laying next to the heart of the battle. If the situation were not so stressful, she could remember the names of various heroes, recalling how many notes Izuku had on them all. She recognized Endeavor, who together with All Might…  
  
She watched in aghast horror as Endeavor burned the face… no, the entire head, off the enemy's now limp body. She quickly recovered, reminding herself that this woman was part of the plot that had her son trapped against his will, possibly being experimented on by these… aliens? Monsters? She couldn't decide if they were even human, or what them not being human would mean for her morally if she wanted them dead.  
  
The conversational entity next to her, whose name she could barely pronounce, seemed completely unfazed by watching his comrades' untimely demise. "Our Quirks appear to be winning against your Charms." Inko was proud of the quip and could not help but smirk at the alien creature next to her. Perhaps now they could negotiate and get her son out of that shell-prison safely.  
  
The creature paused before speaking again. Perhaps it was reassessing the supposed superiority of their powers versus the willpower and perseverance of humanity. Maybe the invaders would reconsider their aggression against humanity, against Japan. And if Inko played her cards right, there might just be a chance they could be convinced to give up pursuing Izuku. She knew enough about bullies and the history of the world to know that powerful empires preferred wars against easy opponents. If they could prove that the war would be costly to both sides, then they had a chance to talk the enemy out of fighting.  
  
Didn't they?  
  
The creature laughed. It sounded like a series of recorded laughs jumbled together, a remix of sounds taken from other people. Inko wondered for a horrified moment if there was a relationship between the discordant voice of this monster and the faces collected on its… cloak? Body?  
  
"Sondok is going to be thoroughly enraged about this humiliation. I should pass my gratitude on to the humans who fought her so well. You've given me fodder to torment her with for at least another century." The thing laughed even harder.  
  
Inko was horrified. Searching the room with her eyes she saw that her dread was well matched by the support staff and reporters cowering, hiding in various parts of the room. This creature was clearly insane. "Sir…" Inko hesitantly began, fearing the creature was insane. "Sondok is dead. Endeavor just burned her head off."  
  
"Dead?" The thing chuckled, either at Sondok's body or at Inko's discomfort. "Dead? Oh no, human, you are frightfully mistaken." Inko wondered if in his macabre-humored insanity he had forgotten her name. "When a Deva's physical body is wounded beyond repair, they abandon it. She's alive and well and standing over there as we speak. Momentarily impotent and enraged, but still able to issue commands to her forces."  
  
Observing Inko's doubt, the creature raised up his four brush tipped claws and wrote in the air. Glowing crimson symbols formed before Inko's eyes, pictographs from a language she had never heard of before. In half a minute he had strung together a sentence containing perhaps fifty such characters, each of them far more complicated than any symbol in any form of writing Inko had ever seen. Touching onto the letters, if they were indeed letters, set the entire sentence ablaze with soft green light. The crimson on green contrast was sharp and painful to look at. But then, suddenly everything was more difficult to look at.  
  
Inko gazed around her and saw that this creature she had been conversing with was flanked by four large wasp-like insects. Their wings were like rainbows and their eyes were like crystal balls. But worse, when she looked across the street, she saw that the monster had been speaking the truth: Sondok, as he called her, was still standing among the heroes even as they fought to keep Ingenium alive. She seemed to be see-through, not nearly as tangible as the monster or his guardian insects, but very much healthy. There wasn't a sign that she had any injuries at all. The woman's only inconvenience from her recent bout was her missing crown and weapons, as beyond that she didn't appear burnt or bruised.  
  
"No…" Inko could not believe what she was seeing. "She's right there… they don't even see her!"  
  
The heroes around Sondok appeared oblivious as she was busy shouting orders to her soldiers, coordinating them with greater effort than Inko had observed earlier. When she was engaged in battle herself she seemed content to leave them to their own devices, but now that she was stuck on ethereal sidelines Sondok roared out commands rapidly and clearly, her voice echoing across the city like thunder. But no one, not any of the heroes, could hear a single word of it.  
  
"They can't even hear her." Inko despaired.  
  
A medical rescue helicopter was descending to extract the most injured of the heroes. Simultaneously, Inko could see many the ape soldiers gathering on the surrounding rooftops, joined now by over a dozen of the flying man-sized wasps. "You're staging an ambush…"  
  
Mahbagodeth. She remembered that the thing's name was Mahbagodeth. "Please. Lord Mahbagodeth…" Inko turned and bowed low to the creature. "Please. Spare them. Call off your attack. Please. We can't hurt you. Please, show mercy."  
  
The unreadable mask turned to regard her. "Indeed. You lack the technological capacity to do lasting harm to us. We have shown remarkable restraint up to this point, but your resistance has proven disrespectful and wasteful of our time and energy. We have held back our power in respect for the home of Prince Izuku, but that patience has met an obscene limit… Sondok even offered to allow hostilities to cease, to allow the one you call All Might to rescue the 'heroes' that disrupted the Prince's Chrysalis. When he rejected that offer and attacked Sondok, the eternal nation of Malfeas took such action as a declaration of war… why then should we hold back now? Why not wipe out this entire city?"  
  
Inko knelt before the creature that threatened the lives of everyone and everything she knew and loved. She knelt before her son's captor. Her forehead pressed down to the floor as she squinted, wincing away her tears of shame. "I'll do anything… please… spare us. We're… ignorant, helpless humans. Please take mercy on us… we're like children, lashing out when the adults come and tell us that playtime is over. Please take our youth and ignorance into account." She sobbed on the ground, wishing she had never seen what this monster had opened her eyes to, wishing she was home with Izuku, wishing none of this day had ever happened.  
  
The creature spoke coldly, harshly. "Wayward children still get punished for their defiance."

  



	9. Ingenium

{}

Night fell across the city of Musutafu like a plague. The last light of the sun flickered out, drowning the city in darkness. Far above, the night sky seemed odd and unfamiliar. The moon should have been visible, waxing, bathing the city in soft silver light. But it was absent. For those paying attention, the stars just did not seem right. It would be many hours before the true horror and implication of this alien vista above them was revealed to the general public. Calibration had come.  
And with Calibration, things were able to enter the world that should never be spoken of.  
  
All of this escaped All Might's notice.  
  
"HQ, this is All Might. Enemy leader neutralized. Ingenium is down. I repeat: Enemy leader neutralized. Ingenium is down. We request immediate medical evacuation." He ignored his own pain, the jagged edges of shrapnel that even now dug threateningly in his skin.  
  
Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Endeavor place fingers on Ingenium's neck, checking for vitals. "All Might!" Endeavor had never once in their years-long relationship called to him with such urgency. Their rivalry forgotten; All Might rushed to the side of the other hero. Others rushed to their side at well.  
  
Ingenium was dying. He had no heartbeat and had stopped breathing. Blood oozed from his wounds slowly, seeping out through his armor. Sondok's sword remained deeply lodged through his torso. If they did not act quickly, the Turbo Hero would be gone forever.  
  
No one present had a medical Quirk.  
  
"Help me." All Might urged, as he used his only hand to work on removing Ingenium's armor. It would be tricky, as moving the sword could exacerbate his bleeding and cause further injuries. The risk of doing nothing through was significantly greater.  
  
Soon his efforts were joined by the others and their unique Quirks. Cementoss locked the sword into place, securing it on both the handle and the tip with concrete locks. Endeavor heated the joints on Ingenium's armor so that it would bend away more easily, and then superheated the armor where it had been penetrated so that the scrap could be pulled away from the wound. All Might burned his own hand to help Endeavor shape the metal away from Ingenium's body and did it without flinching.  
  
His armor and helmet removed, Ingenium was revealed to the world. The face and body of Iida Tensei appeared both strong and powerful but were pocked with shrapnel wounds and burns in seemingly random patterns. The worst wound, of course, was the sword that clearly had penetrated through the left side of his chest. All Might and the others feared that it had cleaved straight through his heart or aorta, and it most certainly had pierced his left lung.  
  
In their moment of hesitation, All Might and Endeavor were approached by Edgeshot. The man was littered with shrapnel wounds and burns of his own. His right eye was missing. He clearly had removed it himself after it had been compromised. It was his personal reward for their earlier charge against Sondok. The Ninja Hero's costume was burned in many places and shredded in others. His clothes were caked in his own blood, yet he stood on his own two feet.  
  
"Get him on his back. Carefully." The ninja spoke. His words were strained and painful.  
  
Cementoss, the least injured among them, took to the task wordlessly. He devoted full concentration to his artistry, moving the concrete around Ingenium rather than moving Ingenium directly. A concrete bench formed under the Turbo Hero, and a long covering arm extended above him, holding Sondok's sword in place. The arm blocked access to Ingenium from one side, but it secured the blade so that as Cementoss rotated Ingenium's body, the sword safely rotated its position in relation to him. It was the most delicate procedure he had ever performed with his Quirk, and it clearly took a toll on him to work with such precision. The results however were nothing short of miraculous.  
  
Edgeshot then set straight to his own work. With his body-folding quirk, he flattened his own hands into thin blades. He cut deep into Tensei's sword wound, opening it even wider than before. In no time at all Endeavor and All Might understood Edgeshot's purpose. They all needed to see how extensive the damage was. This wasn't the effort to save the life of Iida Tensei, the Turbo Hero. This was still just triage. It was a grim thought.  
  
"Endeavor." Edgeshot spoke over his shoulder. "Hurry." Edgeshot needed him at the operating table.  
  
This was still an operating table. That meant that there was still a small chance.  
  
Rushing to Edgeshot's side, Endeavor provided much needed illumination. The sword had indeed damaged an artery and Ingenium's heart. The damage seemed superficial, but even the slightest scratch would render the heart hazardously inert. Ingenium could potentially still survive if they could get his breathing and heart started again quickly.  
  
Then Endeavor saw the damage beyond the circulation system, and his hopes sank into despair. Ingenium had bled a great deal into his own body cavity, yet Sondok's sword was still clearly visible all the way through as it seemed to capture the firelight and let off its own garish green illumination in response. Endeavor saw that the blade clearly had cut into Ingenium's spine. It likely happened when Sondok cast him aside. Ingenium had made significant use of his legs and his Quirk to fight against her strength earlier, actions he could not have taken with a spinal injury. He doubted that Ingenium would ever walk again.  
  
If he lived. But he wouldn't. With this much damage to his heart, lungs, and spine, there was nothing they could do. Even if they sealed the wounds on his heart, even if they removed the blade, and performed resuscitation on him, the amount of time required would render Ingenium a vegetable at best. His brain would starve for oxygen during the entire process.  
  
The best that they could do was to honor the fallen.  
  
"All Might," Endeavor despaired as he spoke. "Please call the time."  
  
For once, All Might did not speak at all when prompted. He did not move. The weight of his own despair was too great.  
  
Cementoss stood forward. "Ingenium, the Turbo Hero. Time of death: Seven forty-two in the evening."  
  
His words rang hollow across the comms. All chatter from elsewhere, from heroes and support crews in the field to other emergency personnel, everyone observed a shocked silence.  
  
While waiting for their extraction, the heroes on hand chose to honor Ingenium's body.  
  
Slowly, agonizingly slow, Edgeshot and Cementoss removed Sondok's sword from Ingenium's chest, careful not to cause additional damage. They could have chosen speed and practicality, but these men chose to honor their fellow hero with precision and care in his treatment. This was not just a corpse. This was Ingenium, the man that had saved all their lives. Endeavor cauterized the exit wound near Ingenium's spine, but now the worst was to come. They were aghast at the volume of blood that had rushed from Ingenium's heart into his body cavity, still warm with life. At least now the bleeding from within would slow down, providing some semblance of peacefulness to his remains.  
  
Testing, Edgeshot dulled the sharpness of his knife-hand and gently turned Ingenium's heart, Allowing Endeavor to cauterize the heart and aorta... preserving the organs and their integrity. Knowing the type of man Ingenium was, they would be donated before the day was over. Satisfied, he removed his hand, allowing Endeavor to cauterize the entrance wound in Ingenium's chest. The work was unsanitary and rushed, but it was the best they could do.  
  
All Might could see Endeavor's unease. "He spoke to you before... before he passed." The unspoken question hung in the air.  
  
Endeavor was briefly alarmed at the suddenness of the topic, still caught in the moment, still focusing on the body in front of him. The moment passed. Adrenaline was replaced by exhaustion. "He asked me to speak to his brother. He wanted him to inherit the title of Ingenium."  
  
All Might nodded as he inhaled deeply, and took his communicator out of his ear, setting it down next to Ingenium. He wanted to focus on this conversation now that the crisis was becoming manageable. Once they finished up here, they'd still need to rescue Young Midoriya from being pursued, but at least it would be a mop up mission compared to the fight with Sondok. Exhaling, he turned to place his remaining hand on his old rival's shoulder. "He knew what he was doing when he charged at her, Endeavor. He calculated the risk to his own life and the risk to yours… he chose to sacrifice himself for you. It was his choice. Not yours."  
  
Endeavor shuddered with hidden emotions, thoughts and feelings he refused to bring to the surface. He had tried to make his peace with his son and daughter only to live with this new guilt. It was heavy enough to crush him into a fine paste. "He was so young." Was all he said.  
  
Cementoss spoke up. "His brother is an applicant for U.A. University. He's a hero course applicant." The statement was obvious on the surface, but the implications were layered. Endeavor winced at the knowledge that the man's brother was that much younger. He expected a man perhaps in his mid-twenties, but a late teen? This was just too much.  
  
Edgeshot glance from the body over to All Might. "We'll need to give our condolences to his wife and daughter, as well."  
  
Endeavor felt his heart get caught in a vice. A wife. A daughter. Of course. Glancing over at the man on his cement table, Endeavor had to ask. "You had a wife and daughter, but you saved me… why? Why me? Why would you choose me instead of them?"  
There was no response. Ingenium was silent and static.  
  
Again, All Might inhaled deeply. He paid no mind to Edgeshot, who suddenly seemed distracted by some communication on his earpiece. "He didn't choose you." He shifted as though to address Ingenium. "Ingenium saw that your fire was doing more harm to Sondok than any other attack in our arsenal. She clearly saw that too, which was why she focused on killing you. He didn't choose you by yourself, Endeavor. His sacrifice wasn't for you alone. It was for all of us."  
  
Ingenium did not respond to All Might's conjecture. He was no longer there, no longer in that body. He was gone.  
  
They waited in silence for long unendurable minutes, refusing to leave Ingenium's body unattended. At last, they heard the approach of a medical extraction helicopter. The irony was bitter in all Might's mouth. If things had gone just a bit differently, they'd be taking an injured hero to the hospital. As things stood, instead they would be taking him for organ retrieval and funeral preparations.  
  
This wasn't how things were supposed to turn out.  
  
Edgeshot and Endeavor glanced at each other, a nervousness passing between them that All Might did not have time to comprehend. Whatever it was could wait.  
  
Sparing a glance up to Edgeshot and Endeavor, All Might saw that they were both on edge, anxious. Reaching for his earpiece, All Might wondered what terrible news he had missed… and how much longer he could hold onto his large musclebound form. He was already well past his established limit and feared what else he may be needed for when his body gave out.  
  
"No…" He uttered, hearing the communications from someone in the Support Corps. He cast his eyes back to the building across the street. Across to where Midoriya Inko and the rest of the communications team were trapped with another monster like Sondok.  
  
Another one. When one had been enough to handle a team of eight top heroes.  
  
Gritting his teeth, he steeled himself for the possibility that he would reach his own limit during combat. He would have to make these last moments count.  
  
"Ingenium. You were best of us today." He rested his hand on the shoulder of the younger hero one last time.  
  
"You saved my life, kid." Endeavor added in. The man seemed almost tearful.  
  
"But now you need to get out of here… while we handle the rest." All Might patted the man on the shoulder as he lay on the concrete bench, speaking to him as though he were still here, as though he would ever respond again.  
  
Lying in wait for his extraction, Ingenium remained as All Might, Endeavor, Cementoss, and Edgeshot moved towards the other heroes on the far edge of the roof. Warm with residual traces of life, he was still gone. He could offer no words to encourage or comfort them for what they were about to face. He couldn't tell them that he knew what they were up against. Instead they were left wondering how many of them would join him shortly as heroes remembered for their sacrifice. They each vowed in their own way to not let Ingenium's sacrifice be in vain, to help provide meaning for the world's loss.  
  
Ingenium may be gone, and may have lost his life, but it was the world that truly seemed to have lost. The world seemed less bright, less hopeful, now that a hero as great as this one was snuffed out. The tragedy struck home to each of them as they turned away, as the youngest among them lay unendingly still.  
  
Endeavor turned back, as though he were going to say something to Ingenium. Whatever it was Endeavor had to say, he bit the words back and turned again towards the danger that loomed across the street. Perhaps the older hero was going to say something witty, a final farewell on a positive note to Iida Tensei. Perhaps he wanted to apologize for Tensei's ending, feeling a sense of responsibility.  
  
Tensei however did not need any witty remarks or any remorse. He had saved the life of Endeavor and likely everyone there on the rooftop with him. It was true that if he hadn't acted as he did, then their only effective weapon against Sondok would have been killed. If any of the others were in his position, they each hoped they'd have the strength to make the same choice that he did.  
  
As he struggled to set his feelings aside and focus on the mission ahead, Endeavor swore to find a way to repay the Turbo Hero. Iida Tensei was gone. But Ingenium would live on, and Endeavor would repay his life debt one way or another.

  


{}

Bullshit. As far as Bakugou Katsuki was concerned, this entire day had been filled with nothing but bullshit. Everything seemed like it would end ok when they got the text from Inko, the one that said that Deku was still alive. But everything since then? Even more bullshit.  
  
Events unfolded rapidly around them as he and his mom waited impatiently and helplessly. His personal hero All Might had never lost a battle in his entire tenure as the top hero of Japan. Now he was missing his right hand. And it got chopped off by a walking Hot Topic bitch, the same one that fucking stabbed Ingenium in the chest… That was all before Endeavor blew her head off in a microwave sized firestorm… yeah, that was cool, Katsuki mused.  
  
Unfortunately, things don't look like they're over, he thought to himself. Aunt Inko is being held hostage by some empty masked fucker named Megadeath or some other bullshit he couldn't pronounce. Meanwhile Deku is stuck doing an American-style football impression where he's the ball. Katsuki wondered if the nerd would even appreciate that he was being held up against what was possibly the world's largest pair of tits.  
  
And where did all that leave Katsuki and his mom, he asked himself? Yeah: in the fucking park, waiting around like extras. The tall blonde stood and stretched, bitterness rising in his throat as he contemplated how helpless he felt. But at least he wasn't a coward. Already he saw a fair number of people file out of the park, many to taxis or support buses. Apparently, the entire district was under a voluntary evacuation.  
  
He couldn't really blame them all for being afraid. Megadeath apparently was threatening to kill everyone in the whole city. The whole fucking city. The thought pissed him off.  
  
He caught movement from the corner of his eye. Focusing, he didn't see anything. Maybe it was dust on the wind… Dust! His eyes forced wide open with dreadful realization. "Mom… run, go start the car!" He shouted back over his shoulder as he ran toward the danger, unthinking of his own safety.  
  
Silver sand coalesced in multiple locations throughout the park. Roaring to life as they walked on their fists into material existence, the ugly ape-bastards began their assault. They were huge, each likely weighing a metric ton. But worse than their ugly faces, Katsuki was caught in a terrible carrion-odor that emanated from their blood red skin. He released a powerful explosion, igniting the air in a brilliant display. He then changed his mind: Getting a better look, Katsuki decided that no matter how bad they smelled, they were even uglier to look at. The one whose face he lit up was blinded by the explosions, giving the explosive teen the chance to knock it further off balance with twin blasts to both of the creature's flanks.  
  
Another roared at him before charging, trampling at least two people in its path of fury. Katsuki stood his ground before unleashing hell onto the thing's face. He could not let these things past him. Somewhere behind his back, his mother was rushing to their car. He couldn't let these things get to her. Her Quirk wasn't strong enough to let her fight these things. He might let his mother smack him from time to time, and he might even shout threats back to her, but he shuddered with pure anger at the thought of any of these ugly fuckers getting their filthy paws anywhere near her.  
  
Several heroes were fighting nearby. Katsuki saw one that was able to multiply himself, another that could grow trees rapidly, and several others much farther off. Closer though than all the others was a guy Katsuki dubbed Whaleface… no wait, that was Gang Orca now that he thought about it. The man was fighting, but he was clearly injured. He was bleeding from multiple shrapnel wounds. Katsuki remembered seeing him arrive and get laid out for medical treatment by Jet Boost Guy… Ingenium!  
  
Just as he wondered what the injured whale of a man could do, Katsuki saw the man grab onto one of the ape-shit-for-brains and somehow squeezed the thing's head so hard that it liquified the ape's brain. Grey matter oozed out of the creature's ears before it fell over, where it promptly dissipated into sand. Ok, that was kind of badass, the teen mused.  
  
"That's some Quirk you've got, kid. What's your name?" Whaleface… or, Gang Orca asked.  
  
"Bakugou Katsuki. I thought you were laying out on a cot over by those vans, getting ready to ship off to the hospital." He replied. He wasn't trying to be an ass, but he wasn't trying not to be either.  
  
"Hospital's full, Bakugou. All three of them. What's worse is there's still work to do here. I don't have time to just lay down and bleed." Gang Orca surveyed the ongoing battle and made a quick decision. "You plan on applying to any hero courses, son?"  
  
Bakugou's smiled an eager, hungry grin. "Absolutely. Already applied to U.A."  
  
Gang Orca nodded. "Consider yourself deputized under me. Follow my orders to the letter and do not stray from my sight, and I'll write a letter to add to your application. Deal?" He extended a large bruised up hand for Bakugou to shake.  
  
Katsuki didn't even pause long enough to blink. "Deal. But we see my mom off in her car first." He fist-bumped the older hero instead of shaking his hand.  
  
Gang Orca took the reply in stride. "Is that her?"  
  
Katsuki looked back over to her and saw her four-door charging straight toward them. His mother hit the brakes hard, skidding to a stop. "You and your new friend getting in?"  
  
He shook his head, planning on telling his mother that there had been a change of plans, when the older hero interrupted. "I just received word in my comms that Mount Lady is calling for backup."  
  
Gang Orca turned towards Kamui Woods, who apparently was being followed by several teens helping him out as well. One of them had the shittiest red-dyed hair Katsuki had ever seen, visible even in this moonless darkness. "Woods! You and the others have the situation here under control?!" Orca yelled to his fellow professional.  
  
Kamui yelled back affirmatively, before he and the deputized teens rushed off to fight another of the hulking ape-monsters. Shitty Hair and the other extras went off with him, defending the less capable civilians as the park was systematically evacuated. Katsuki didn't want to consider how bad things had to be for him to see multiple heroes use their deputizing rights.  
  
"Madam, Gang Orca at your service and protection." Whaleface addressed Katsuki's mom through her car window. "Unless you have any particular objection, I've taken your son under my wing as a deputy during this emergency."  
  
She didn't look impressed. Katsuki just prayed she'd shut up and not say something stupid or embarrassing. "I sense that's not all you want to say to me." Was all she said.  
  
Gang Orca looked around before practically kneeling to put himself at her level. "I'm going to level with you. Things are bad. There're attacks like this popping up in multiple sites across the city. The heroes are getting stretched thin everywhere and the military is being called in. I'm injured and deputized your son because I can use all the help I can get ahold of, and every professional in sight is already busy. Following so far?" It was clear he asked her not out of concern for her intelligence but just to see if she understood how bad things were and how much he couldn't say about it.  
  
Once she nodded somberly, he continued. "And so, I'm going to ask for your help as well."

  


{}

"Please," he sobbed, begging "I don't want to die! Not like this! It's too much… please!"  
  
Izuku's heart broke for the last copy remaining. Raising his hands apologetically in a pacifying gesture, palms open, he tried to reason with the only doppelganger left. "The circle is rapidly getting smaller. I don't want you to go like… like the first one did. Bleeding, screaming… if I could rescue you I would! But I can't! I'm sorry.  
  
Were the copies struck with the memories of each other's deaths the way Izuku was? Did they feel the same pain, the perspective of the one that perished? They certainly didn't share his unique burden of assisting the suicides of each of the others… Izuku did not want to call it killing, but he knew that was the truest term for it. Worse, he felt like an accomplice to murder, going along with Adorjan's nightmarish trap; allowing her to force his hand, to kill the others just to save them from her.  
  
"Kill." She intoned, as though they needed the reminder that she was ever present, a looming and pervasive threat to their lives.  
  
Izuku did not know that he was crying until he felt his copy wipe a tear from his face. One tear. That seemed all the moisture Izuku could muster for seven graves worth of death. He'd like to blame it on the wind whipping past them, to pretend that the prior tears had been taken away on the air. That would be a lie, though. Instead, the two embraced.  
  
"I'm sorry, Izuku." He said to his copy.  
  
His copy embraced him tightly, and unexpectedly kissed his cheek. There was no awkwardness between them. Their state of undress was forgotten with the dire threat of bleeding silent death. "Promise me…" the copy whispered, yet it felt loud enough against that silent backdrop that he might as well have screamed the words into Izuku's ears. "Don't let her… don't let Adorjan turn you into just a killer. Don't let Cecelyne make you into a tyrant… be a hero. And the others… don't let them change who you are, Izuku! Take their powers, Izuku… but be a hero. Promise me!"  
  
And so Izuku made a vow to himself, for himself, looking himself in the eye as he spoke. "I promise, I'll take these powers and I'll be the best hero our world has ever seen or will ever see again! I'll protect everyone!"  
  
His copy smiled, a grim determined expression. Then he nodded.  
  
It was time.  
  
Kissing his copy, his little brother, on the forehead, Izuku shifted their embrace. Soon the weaker version of Izuku passed out, unable to breathe… and just as quickly, neck broken, he was dead.  
  
Once more Izuku was afflicted with the memory, the suffocation, and the last thoughts of his dying brother. The weight and meaning of his own promise multiplied a thousand-fold. The last words extolling that promise became the weight of the world itself. He could not let himself down; he could not let his brothers, his copies, down.  
  
The winds rushed into the circle, tightening a noose of death around him. Instinctively, Izuku ran, though there was no direction left to run. Uselessly he moved in a tight circle, a cyclone of frenetic movement caught in a greater gale of death.  
  
Bright blinding light moved as wind around him first, and to his horror and disgust the corpses of his fallen brothers were no more. They simply vanished, evaporated into nothingness. He felt the wind pull on his arms as though grappling with him, but Izuku pressed on. If this was how he would die, failing some test for these damned Primordials, then he would die resisting till the last moment. Suddenly his arms felt heavier, but he did not waste time looking down to see what injury or malediction afflicted him. If he lost even a fraction of his speed he would die instantly.  
  
Adorjan was going to kill him anyway, but he would forestall that death until the last possible moment. And just as thousands of knife-sharp arrowheads moved to impale him, to eviscerate his flesh, he dodged. Using all of his speed, and more than he knew he possessed, he broke the laws of physics and moved to skip the space between where he was and where he needed to be, allowing his power to carry him beyond what his own mind comprehended.  
  
And then everything went dark.  
  
Izuku feared that he was dead, but then wondered if the dead even feel fear. He felt constricted, heavy… and cold. His eyes were irritated… His ears sensed nothing, telling him Adorjan was still close by. Only then did he understand that he had somehow dodged down into the sands of Cecelyne, burying himself far below the surface. He had no idea just how far he had dug down, but for now he was out of Adorjan's reach.  
  
His wrists felt hot and constrained. He wondered if he was bleeding. But more than anything he felt tired. Deep in his soul, unheard by anyone, he swore one last promise to himself before falling into a deep slumber.  
  
He would find a way, someday, somehow, to get revenge for his brothers. Their lives were too cruel and too short, and he would not see their suffering left meaningless and forgotten on the sands… someday, he would inflict pain on Adorjan… someday Izuku would strike the wind, and make her scream out loud, louder than her fucking whisper.  
  
Burning deep in his soul, he swore to himself. Izuku would have his revenge.

  


{}

The entire city, glued to their televisions, their computer screens, and their phones, felt a deep and unsettling fear stirring inside them. This fear spread outward to surrounding communities like ink spilling across a page. If it was only heroes falling to the hands of villains, perhaps the effect on society would not be so complete, so abhorrent, or so primal. Witnessing the brutality of that battle and then hearing the words of an inhuman monster caused a dread unlike anything they had ever known. This was not a villain that they could reason with. This was something alien, other, and strange. The thing demanded no ransom, nor did it have some political or philosophical manifesto behind its genocidal threats, but merely dismissed human life as an inconvenience.  
  
Despite warnings from the government to do the contrary, entreating them to stay in their homes, a panicked and disorderly evacuation began. Many citizens living near the battle took it upon themselves to grab up as much or as little as they felt they could part with before fleeing. Some to their cars, others to train and bus stations. Most had no end destination in mind, but many booked reservations at various hotels outside of town or called to stay friends or family. Some went as far to book airline tickets and leave the country, flooding the local airport beyond capacity.  
  
As with all such evacuations, the road leading toward danger is always empty, and the road leading away is always a nightmare of traffic. It was on one such empty road that Bakugou Mitsuki was driving. Her son was in the front passenger seat, meanwhile Gang Orca took up the entire back seat of the vehicle while sitting in as cramped a position as she could imagine. It was insane. They were driving toward the danger that everyone else was in a hurry to get away from. Or more accurately, she was driving herself and her temperamentally unstable son toward that danger.  
  
And why were they doing this?  
  
Because somewhere up ahead, Mount Lady was fighting a swarm of these nasty bastards. She was doing it alone, and she had called repeatedly for help. She by herself was the last line of defense between these motherfuckers and Inko's only son, who was still trapped in that disgusting looking shell. And with both Inko and Izuku in danger, Mitsuki knew exactly which one of the two Inko would ask her to help. So, when Gang Orca's request lined up exactly with Mitsuki's conscience, she once again found herself driving as if possessed by a demon… a demon that was late to return his rental car to the deepest pits of hell.  
  
She wasn't going to tell Inko that she had refused, that she had run. She was going to tell her friend that she and her crazy kid broke every speed limit and caution sign and went on a mission to get Izuku back, to get Inko's boy back. And then, once he was home and safe, she was going to make her son grovel and apologize to him and his mother together. That's how this was going to turn out, invaders from some other world be damned.  
  
Gang Orca seemed hesitant in the back seat, like he wanted to say something from his huddled position. He glanced at the speedometer multiple times. They were moving at least thirty kilometers per hour faster than the posted speed limit, and while there were no other cars on the road that still seemed reckless for a civilian driver.  
  
Just as he was about to speak up, Katsuki turned to look the man dead in the eye. "Sir… just let my mom drive."  
  
Mitsuki smiled as she pressed harder on the accelerator. Maybe, just maybe, her son was learning from all of this. And as she glanced in the rearview mirror at Gang Orca and then past him to the battle zone that they had left behind, maybe playing taxi for a professional hero was the safest thing she could be doing right now. She'd already called her husband, telling him to stay at his job the next town over. He had protested but eventually accepted her advice. The plan, at least once Izuku was free, was to grab him up into her car and get him and her son somewhere safe.  
  
She just prayed Inko would be safe too. She gripped the steering wheel hard, praying more fervently than she ever had in her entire life.  
  
The car seemed to shift as Gang Orca grew uncomfortably stiff in the backseat. She looked at him in the rearview mirror, wondering if her driving truly could cause him so much anxiety when she saw it. Loss. Deep, unendurable loss. He was listening with rapt attention to his communication system, but he also covered his face with one gigantic hand.  
  
"Is it Ingenium?" She asked.  
  
He didn't answer. It was the only answer she and her son needed to hear.

  


{}

Tenya was devastated and wrecked. The news had left him emotionally drained and exhausted. He and his parents were not just glued to their televisions like average civilians. They were privileged to have access to information that many others could only hope for, getting update calls from the support staff at Ingenium's hero agency, Team Idaten. They knew before many others watching the news that Ingenium was dead.  
  
No doubt there would be sharks in the water, scouting away the heroes on his team to other larger agencies. The thought made Tenya's tears feel extra bitter.  
  
"No answer at the hospital…" He overheard his father talking from the kitchen. They knew that Tensei's wife, Naomi, was most likely performing a life-saving surgery at that moment. For all they knew, she was operating on another hero injured that day. Her Quirk, Healing Touch, was extremely powerful, and made her one of the most in-demand surgeons in the nation. She continued to operate under her maiden-name, Kimishima.  
  
Tenya grit his teeth, wondering how they were going to break the news to Alyssa, their adopted daughter. The little girl was just eight years old. She'd only gotten a new dad a year ago, and now… Now he was gone. How was she supposed to face that, to handle that?  
  
And his mother, their mother… Tenya looked over at her, wondering how she held herself together so well. She had just come from upstairs after putting Alyssa to bed. Was she putting up a strong front for her granddaughter? But then, once her foot touched the bottom step she just collapsed. In a heartbeat, before her knees could touch the floor, Tenya and his father each sped to her side, knocking furniture aside. They caught her before she could faint, making her landing as gentle as possible.  
  
A noise from upstairs. Their ruckus had woken Alyssa up. "Go… check on your niece, Tenya. I'll put your mother to bed."  
  
Nodding, Tenya obeyed his father, letting his obligations to the family provide him with steps to follow, roles to fill. As he ascended the stairs, though, he was alone. Up until this moment he had thought about how Tensei's death would affect their parents, or Naomi, or Alyssa. Now, alone on the stairs of his parent's house, he was caught, trapped, by what the loss of his brother was doing to him.  
  
As Tensei's little brother, he had always looked up to his Big Bro as an idol, a figure to aspire to. Tensei was so much older, with such a vast age gap, that their relationship had an almost paternal quality to it, like Tensei was his second father. His parents had never planned on having a second child, in fact they never believed they could have another one so late in life. Tensei however stepped up to help them raise their second son, not caring about the fifteen-year gap in their ages. It was Tensei that taught him to play baseball, to encourage him to join the Highschool track and field team, to take him to hero training camp, and to provide him advice on life, women, and other mysteries in ways his parents never would. Tensei was the one who helped Tenya loosen up over the years despite their strict parents. Tensei was Tenya's best friend, the man he most admired.  
  
Now though his brother needed him. His brother needed Tenya… to comfort his niece and put her to bed. Yes, that's what Tensei would want him to do right now… but he wanted to do so much more.  
  
Tenya wanted blood. He wanted revenge.  
  
Pushing his own selfish thoughts aside, he knocked gently before opening the door, sliding it to one side. He stopped dead in his tracks, pausing before entering. She wasn't just awake; she was crying her eyes out. Tenya picked up his tiny niece and held her close, petting her long brown hair as she stained his shirt with her tears.  
  
"Daddy's not coming home to pick me up, is he?" She asked, breaking his heart in places it wasn't already destroyed.  
  
Crying softly himself, he shook his head sadly. "You get to stay with us tonight. Your mom and dad are both working late. Buy hey! I'll get to take you to school, and when you get out, I'll come pick you up and take you home to them, ok? Maybe they'll even let us play a game or two after we get there." He tried to sound upbeat, to sound happy, for her sake.  
  
He couldn't tell her now. Not like this.  
  
"Daddy's not coming home?" Tenya stiffened as she asked him, his spine rigid and unflexing.  
  
He tried to soften his posture, to be comfortable and doting for her. "No… Daddy got hurt. He has to go to the hospital."  
  
He hated himself. He hated lying to her.  
  
He felt her tiny hand grip hard onto the fabric of his shirt. "Can… can mommy fix him? Like she did me?"  
  
His eyes shot wide at the thought. Alyssa shouldn't be alive today, from what he had heard. Naomi had worked a medical miracle after Alyssa was rescued from a terrible explosion that had killed her entire family. But here she was, whole and healthy. Could Naomi work a miracle again, and save her own husband, Tenya's big brother, from death? He wasn't clear on how her Quirk worked… but maybe, just maybe.  
  
No. It was an irrational thought. Alyssa was alive, however barely, when Naomi operated on her. Tensei was dead on a rooftop far from the hospital. The two situations were completely different from one another.  
  
With a smile on his face he looked little Alyssa in the eye. "He's out rescuing people right now, not with her at the hospital. But… let's find out just what can be done about it. I believe in them… in both of them. You just need to believe in them too, ok?" It wasn't exactly a lie, but he still hated saying it. He hated that he was giving her false hope. He briefly worried that she'd hate him one day for it. But one thing he carefully avoided was letting her believe that Naomi could somehow fix Tensei. That belief could fester into the type of blame no daughter should feel for their mother. He wouldn't allow that and hoped that he had at least avoided that trap for her sake.  
  
She nodded, sniffled, and gave him a smile big enough to take up her whole face. He swore to himself in that moment that he would be the best uncle she could ever ask for, to be for her what Tensei had been for him, that mix of sibling and parent that he had desperately needed. He wasn't sure how he'd help her handle topics like boys and makeup, but he'd do his best for her as she grew older. He had no idea then that helping her was already helping him grow too.  
  
"Now, you're supposed to be in bed. And while you're asleep, I'm going to go check on mommy and daddy for you, ok?" Tenya asked her, and she complied, getting back under the futon.  
  
Just as he scooted toward the door, she asked him. "Uncle Tenya?"  
  
He turned back to her. "Yes?" He had never successfully figured out a nickname for her. In some ways he was still too stiff, too awkward, a facet of himself he continued to work on in his efforts to emulate Tensei.  
  
She smiled adorably. "Can you turn me into a burrito again?"  
  
"Of course, princess." He said. He failed to notice how wide her eyes got when he said that, how happy she was as he tucked the futon around her, making her warm and cozy. He wished her goodnight, and left… while she lay there, happy that he finally called her something adoringly other than just her name… like she was family.  
  
Grim determination filled him. He could do this. He could do this for Tensei, for Alyssa… and for Naomi. He was going to do everything he could to help his brother and his brother's family. He walked with purpose down the stairs and toward the front door.  
  
"Tenya, where are you going?" His father called to him from the living room, watching his son put his running shoes on.  
  
Tenya stood ready by the front door, and for a long time didn't answer his father. But then, he did what he felt was the right thing. "I'm leaving to avenge my brother."  
  
His father stood in abject alarm. "Tenya! Musutafu is a half hour away by car on a good day! The roads are blocked! The city is in the first stage of an evacuation… and there's… monsters! Monsters are literally attacking the city! I already lost one son out there! Don't make it two! Tenya… Tenya!" His father continued to call after him, even running to their front door, as Tenya ignored the man and walked out. As Tenya picked up into a hard run, his father's voice grew more and more distant behind him. He'd never defied the man before, but today he needed to be there… for Tensei.  
  
Tensei once said that he'd run through hell and back for his little brother. Now it was time for Tenya to rise and do the same. "I'm coming Tensei…" He breathed out the words, mostly to himself, as he picked up speed. He ignored the vibrating phone in his pocket, knowing it was his father trying to call. He didn't have time to listen to the man.  
  
Tenya had other things on his mind as he ran towards hell.

  



	10. The Monster is Here

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Everyone in the café was shocked, to put things mildly. Everything from the announcement of Ingenium's death to the live airing of genocidal threats from the strangest creature any of them could have ever imagined… it was all too much. When the voice of a news anchor extolled the virtues of Ingenium and his distinguished career, a dreadful shroud of calm spread over them all. Then when it was revealed that he left a widowed wife and eight-year-old daughter behind, the calm was broken by a flood of emotion.  
  
"Oh god this is too much… first All Might's hand… now… Ingenium… he was a dad! He had… he has a little girl!" The pink skinned woman was soon crying on the shoulder of a waitress she had only met hours ago, a woman whose name she didn't even know.  
  
"Hush. It'll be…" Ochako stopped herself from telling the crying woman that things would be ok, or alright. They wouldn't be. The platitude felt empty, as worthless as words shouted at a television screen. Ochako still felt embarrassed about that.  
The taller woman pulled a handkerchief out of her purse, because of course a rich girl had one of those, Ochako thought. Whereas most normal women might keep a small supply of disposable tissue, this princess had an actual handkerchief. She chided herself though for thinking anything ill towards someone showing obvious generosity. The offered cloth wasn't for the woman's own use, but for the pink skinned woman currently weeping on Ochako's shoulder.  
  
Said weeping woman however could not see the offering hand nor its cotton contents. Instead Ochako reached out to take it. "Thank you… miss?" She prompted the other woman for a name.  
  
"You're quite welcome, miss… Urakara." She said, managing to look over the name tag on Ochako's maid uniform. "And it's good to meet you. I'm Yaoyorozu Momo."  
  
She nodded gratefully for the introduction and the cotton tissue, normal protocol for introductions however remained interrupted by an outpouring of emotion on her blouse. Ochako nudged the crying woman so that the handkerchief could be put to actual use, and eventually got her to use it to wipe her eyes and then blow her nose. "There, feel better?"  
  
The poor thing, Ochako thought, watching her nod that she was better when she clearly wasn't. None of them were, really. They just all were expressing things differently. It was clearly not a coincidence that the greatest display of emotion in the room was from someone who knew people living in the affected apartments. The anxiety must be wracking the rest of her emotions.  
  
Once the crying woman extricated herself from Ochako, the waitress finally had a chance to introduce herself. "Urakara Ochako at your service. It's good to meet you." The comment was to both of them, and out of embarrassing habit was accompanied by the same curtsy that Ochako was trained to always use when on the job.  
  
Thankfully the curtsy elicited a giggle from the pink bombshell, restoring some life and light to her face. "Ashido Mina." She introduced herself, making an awkward giggle accompanied by a sniffle. "And thank you for the tissue."  
  
"Oh, it's not mine. You should thank Miss Yaoyorozu here." Ochako raised her hands, not wanting to accept false credit for a good deed.  
  
As Mina turned to offer thanks to Momo, an ominous tremoring rumbled through the restaurant. It was a low and rhythmic and was eerily like an earthquake. Plates and glasses shook on the tables as drinks rippled chaotically in the rhythm of the vibrations. It was accompanied by a faint thunderous sound from somewhere outside, a sound that was rapidly increasing in volume.  
  
"The Monster is Here." Kaname spoke up from where she clung to her boyfriend, Sousuke. The sentiment was passably strange but tolerable earlier. Now it set everyone even further on edge.  
  
"Everyone! Under the tables! Face away from the windows!" Ochako barked the command out with more force than she knew she could muster. Her instincts proved right, saving everyone from the worst of what came next, but not for the reason she had assumed. The building shook, and the windows shattered, but thankfully everyone kept their faces and eyes turned away long enough to avoid glass injuring their eyes. When accounting for everyone's safety, Ochako was completely correct in the order she gave them all.  
  
As the shadow of Mount Lady passed over them all, they were all assured that this was not an earthquake. They were safe from that, at least.  
  
That assurance felt like ash in their mouths as a rampaging horde of bestial ape-like creatures, all armed to the teeth, rushed past their position. The smell of carrion inundated the now-open-air restaurant, summarily ending any appetites that prior news had left intact. Immediately they were on an adrenaline-fueled state of alert as the horde seemed unending. There were easily dozens of the creatures, and they all shared a wordless yet growing concern that the group would have stragglers… observant ones.  
  
Their concern was well founded.  
  
A lone monster strayed from the pack, sniffing at the air. It moved slowly towards the broken windows of the café. The smile it made upon seeing a group of cowering humans caused Ochako's stomach to sink. That grin reminded her of the expression a fat man once made when she worked at a buffet, happy with so many choices in front of them yet pondering where to start. She knew then that to this thing, people were food. She didn't need to wait and watch it grab someone to confirm that theory, the stench of its blood-stained face was evidence enough for her.  
  
She had to do something.  
  
She was shocked when it was Mina, the pink woman who had flooded her blouse with tears just minutes ago, that acted first. Rushing after her, Ochako was both surprised and impressed when Mina unleashed a long spray of powerful acid directly at the creature's face, ruining its vision. It thrashed around haphazardly, swinging its arms as it searched for someone to grab and kill.  
  
Ochako wasn't going to let this thing find anyone, not a single person to victimize. She clapped the outstretched arm that pawed after her as she activated her Quirk, nullifying the hold gravity held on the creature. It pounded the ground in frustration as she dodged away, and the force sent it hurtling uncontrollably. The thing grabbed at a ruined window frame in order to hang on and avoid floating away.  
  
Unfortunately for the monster, that hand soon lost every finger worth speaking of when Momo sliced them off with a sword that she seemingly pulled from nowhere. Glancing at the taller woman, Ochako saw that she had a tear in her blouse that revealed a toned midsection. Right then, as she was grateful for the woman's help in the fight, Ochako decided to accept that Momo was as close to a perfect person as she would likely meet, and resolved to swallow her jealousy for the taller, richer, better looking woman.  
  
Instead she focused on the monster, keeping her anti-gravity Quirk fully active so that it couldn't find purchase. She glanced around, hoping that no more stragglers remained. However, there were three that she could spot terrorizing other shops on the street, as well as a few corpses that proved her earlier theory correct. They clearly had died as a result of chunks of flesh being bitten from their bodies, as well as subsequent blood loss. Ochako fought hard within herself to not get sick at the gruesome sights.  
  
Curiously though, was that the three remaining stragglers were moving sluggishly. Then Ochako saw the cause.  
  
The pro-heroine Midnight was choking the life out of one of the brutes from behind using her whip, all the while surrounding herself with a cloud of wispy pink and purple smoke. He Quirk allowed her to produce a powerful air-based sleep-inducing toxin that worked better on men than it did women. Interestingly, the gas was proving effective against these creatures as well, suggesting that gender mattered more than species for her Quirk. Her hero costume, a breast-less leotard over a flesh colored bodysuit, seemed more for show than for practicality. Her whip however was proving extremely practical at the moment, as it cut off air and circulation from the blood red ape. Once the monster was strangled to death, it dissipated slowly into fine sand.  
  
Almost immediately, Midnight rushed from the dissipating creature to the one floating near Ochako, grappling it with her whip before using her leverage to throw it high up into the air. With no gravity to hold the creature, it helplessly was propelled by inertia higher and higher, until of course Ochako released her hold on her Quirk. None of the ladies present said anything about it, but they all enjoyed the moment it went splat on the asphalt about fifty meters away.  
  
Well, all the ladies except one. "That was fucking awesome!" Mina declared. Ochako simply blushed.  
  
"You, with the gravity Quirk. Help me do the same to these two." Midnight ordered. She was too severe, too exhausted to admit how much this amused her. It did, however, amuse her. When they did it twice more the novelty still did not wear off. It turns out that launching monsters into the stratosphere by the power of your muscles and a helpful gravity-defying Quirk is quite therapeutic. This is especially true when the monsters have been killing people, providing a sense of justice to the act. The gratuitous gore when they hit the ground also proved cathartic to Midnight.  
  
But they had wasted precious time. There were dozens more of these things, and they were chasing Mount Lady. "Alright, ladies." Midnight said, taking command of the situation. "I have a lot of ground to cover. The general order is out authorizing me to deputize volunteers. Anyone volunteering, explain your Quirk to me quickly."  
  
The younger women understood implicitly that if heroes were deputizing civilians, then the battle across the city was not going well at all. Things had to be far worse than the news was reporting to the public. Momo specifically was concerned, recalling that the creature on the broadcast boasted that he and his fellow aliens were nigh-unkillable. Clearly, they weren't invulnerable, but rather just immortal.  
  
Just immortal, as though the phrase could be thought so casually. As grim as things were, they could still fight back. "Yaoyorozu Momo, and I can create anything by using the lipids within my body. I'm limited to items whose chemical composition I understand." She stood forward, introducing herself.  
  
"Ashido Mina," the other said. "I can produce and spray acid from any part of me and can determine how strong the acid is." Whatever emotions wracked her before, she was dealing with them now. Her expression was calm and determined.  
  
"Urakara Ochako, and I can nullify gravity with a touch." She said but then added hesitantly "I have to keep my focus up to keep the effect going, but I can affect multiple objects or even people at once."  
  
Midnight nodded at the three young women. Good, they all had Quirks that could help with combat. "You, Miss Yaoyorozu, yes?" Once she received an affirmative nod she continued. "Make three gas masks. This will protect all of you from my Quirk. Then I won't worry about having to hold back."  
  
A short blast of energy caught their attention. Turning quickly, they saw Sousuke blast one of the ogre-like apes in the face as it struggled back to life. Apparently that one hadn't been hurt enough to completely evaporate. "You!" Midnight called out to him. "You're not volunteering?"  
  
His combat potential was obvious. With an energy discharge Quirk he could help them on the front line. But to their disappointment he bowed apologetically. "My apologies, but there are people back here that need to be protected. Please leave them in my care."  
  
Midnight considered his words and nodded affirmatively to him. "Please gather up non-combat civilians and bring them indoors to as secure a location as you can find." She left him to his own devices once that order had been given.  
  
"He's staying here for Kaname, his new girlfriend," Ochako thought. She understood. She only wished she knew someone that would show her that kind of dedication. It occurred to her that if she had accepted his invitation to a date, then he might now be accompanying them to the front line. For Ochako's sake, who in that missed opportunity, that alternate path, would have been his girlfriend. She pushed the useless thought to the side as she accepted a gas mask from Momo.  
  
Gas masks secured; the three young women followed Midnight in a mad dash towards the horde of monsters. There was a great distance to cover. Suddenly though, Momo came to an abrupt halt.  
  
"What's wrong?" Midnight asked the younger woman.  
  
"I just realized… I should tell my driver where I'm going!" the insufferably rich woman stated, not understanding the looks of aghast disbelief she was receiving from her three other companions.  
  
"Your what… you have a what?" Ochako couldn't contain the words, blurting them out before thinking about it. Seriously though, Ochako thought, she not only has a car somewhere nearby but a driver?  
  
Midnight however leapt on the situation from a far more practical angle. "How many passengers can fit in your vehicle?"  
  
"Well… six if you count my driver, though more if you squeeze in together…" she seemed genuinely embarrassed as the situation dawned on her.  
  
"Well lead the way, rich lady, we're gonna taxi our way to this battle!" Mina's enthusiasm helped break through both the awkwardness and the jealousy the two other young women. None of the others could tell though if "rich lady" was uttered out of forgetfulness of playfulness. It seemed likely the answer was both.

  


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It wasn't a car, at least not as Ochako thought of cars. It was a limousine, a long black limo, the kind with a privacy window between the rear passengers and the driver. The back had rear facing seats behind the driver and front facing seats farther in the back. And despite Momo's earlier estimate, it could easily fit six people in the back and two more up front.  
  
"Nice ride! And this isn't a rental right?" Mina did not seem the least bit bothered but displayed her envy with bubbling positivity. But why would she ask if this was rented? Ochako decided not to think about that.  
  
"Thank you for transporting us, Mr. Michaelis. It's truly appreciated." Ochako could sense Midnight's appreciation for their driver. He was a tall thin man with good looks, dark hair and was dressed in a fine butler's suit. For an older man even Ochako thought he was attractive. He just wasn't her type.  
  
"It's no trouble at all, Madam Midnight." He said with a smile on his face. While the rest of them were still high on adrenaline, he seemed utterly calm despite the scenery he was driving through or the danger he was driving towards. "I pride myself on being the best butler or chauffer that I can be, and it would be a very sorry example I would set if I could not offer you all the service you needed. Young mistress, if you would be so kind: there is a first aid kit under the back seat. Do please take that with you. Also, be sure to drink plenty of fluids and eat a snack. I know how your Quirk tires you out." He chided her gently the way an older sibling might, and Momo appeared somewhat flustered from the attention. However, she did follow his advice.  
  
Changing the topic, Midnight had to ask. "Do you happen to have a Quirk that can help in the current situation?"  
  
His smile didn't waver. "I do wish I could offer you a better answer but…" he swerved to avoid some debris on the road, a portion of a building that had fallen not long ago. It appeared to be from fairly high up, and was a composite of masonry, glass, and wood framing. "I'm Quirkless." He said, setting the car back into the correct lane.  
  
Ochako was quietly shocked, whereas Mina openly gasped. Quirkless individuals were becoming rarer and rarer. Momo's mouth was too full to offer any commentary, but she nodded as it was something she already knew about him.  
  
Quirkless often lead difficult lives, unable to compete in their field of choice against job candidates with applicable Quirks. She hated to watch as it happened, but Ochako saw a moment of grief pass through Midnight's eyes. It was as though she was able to pinpoint the moment Midnight was no longer able to see the man as a worthwhile man to flirt with. Instead he would be an object of pity.  
  
Like that poor boy in the shell.  
  
"I just… don't understand." Ochako said, frustrated at the whole situation.  
  
The two young women in the back regarded her with concern. Midnight looked over her shoulder, and from their brief eye contact Ochako felt prompted to continue. "It's just… I get that these things are villains from another world. What bothers me is why they decided to kidnap a Quirkless boy and… experiment on him."  
  
Their driver, Mr. Michaelis, was the only one in the vehicle who caught on to the fact that the Quirkless youth was a boy in the eyes of Ochako and her companions, despite being the same age. He wisely chose not to engage in a philosophical discussion about the infantilizing of minorities by the powerful throughout human history. He had accepted his own limitations a long time ago and wasn't about to endanger the position and prestige he had attained, limited as they were.  
  
Midnight however offered up a theory that ignored that nuance. "It could just be that they determined Quirks would interfere with whatever it is they're doing to the poor boy."  
  
Mina surprised the other passengers when she offered up her own insight. "I don't think that's it. If that thing talking to his mom is believable, then they picked her son very specifically. The thing even laid out a whole education course for him like some twisted guidance counselor… like, it wants to take him to some university on another planet or something."  
  
"He was quite explicit about that, wasn't he? A palace… and something about martial arts training. That's a lot of trouble to go through if they picked a random Quirkless… no, you're right, they picked him for a reason." Momo surmised. "And the thing was quite dismissive of Quirks, as though they just didn't matter… to him, if you can call that a him… we're all Quirkless."  
  
Mr. Michaelis smiled at that. If some good could come from this disaster, then it would be from people like the young woman he served under. Miss Yaoyorozu, he observed, could see the irony of the situation: that the things attacking the city regarded their Quirk possessing society with extreme disdain, a disdain reminiscent of the condescension society regards the Quirkless with. That thought was interrupted though when he noticed something in his rearview mirror and brought it to Midnight's attention.  
  
Midnight raised a hand, quieting the conversation. Lowering her window, she regarded a motorcycle that was rapidly gaining on them. She used her hands to signal the rider to her side. She seemed pleasantly surprised when the rider's helmet raised up, revealing a face that though partially burned was quite recognizable.  
  
Aizawa Shouta remained as striking as ever and was a relief to Midnight's hidden anxieties. "Eraserhead. Glad you could join us." Midnight spoke into the comm on her earpiece. It was far more convenient than shouting on the road.  
  
"Midnight. Traveling in style I see. Follow me. There's too much debris up ahead to get to Mt. Lady straight on. I know a shortcut." Her comm system roared to life, though with more static than she would have liked. The others in the vehicle grew quiet, listening carefully to the conversation. Other than occasionally passing instructions to their driver Midnight focused on Eraserhead's words as well.  
  
"I'm not going to lie. The situation is worse than any we've been in before. Enemy squads have attacked several cellphone towers in the area and decimated two bridges. Another group just attacked a power substation using suicide bomber tactics. They're systematically cutting out our communications and our major access points. Thankfully we use a geo-synced satellite for our comm system." He sighed audibly into the comm.  
  
After swerving to avoid another bit of debris he continued. "We're estimating that there's at least five hundred ground troops and just as many air support units."  
  
"Air support?" Midnight asked, alarmed.  
  
Eraserhead confirmed her worst fears. "They're nasty wasps just as big as people, and their sting melts organic matter. Be careful of those. The army is trying to move in but is having obvious logistical difficulty. Our job is to help Mount Lady escape the city with the Shell in tow, and rendezvous with the Japanese Self Defense Force (JSDF)… which will then compel the enemy to give chase to a location of the JSDF's choosing." He paused, then got to the worst part.  
  
"If we fail, the JSDF's instructions are to aid in civilian evacuation efforts and to contain the threat until bomber support can arrive from Okinawa." Okinawa. Bombers. That meant they had asked the Americans for help. This was no longer deemed a domestic affair, but an international incident.  
  
"Something in your tone tells me not to look forward to the help the United States is offering." Her statement had a visible tensing effect on the women in the back section of the car.  
  
"The United States Air Force has been ordered to extract the shell and to drop it into the depths of the Pacific… before bombing the city as a test of the enemy's supposed immortality." He said the words as neutrally as possible, but his seething anger was poorly hidden just under the surface.  
  
"So, they're fine killing the hostage and leftover civilians? And Japan is just going to take that lying down?" Midnight asked scathingly.  
  
"Oh, they wouldn't target the whole city indiscriminately. They're quite good at taking out marked targets. But no one, not in our government or theirs, is concerned at all about the civilian inside that shell. Officially he's being treated as a casualty already. Our Prime Minister requested the help… rather explicitly. That's why we can't afford to fail. We must confirm if he's alive. It's been hours since Gang Orca assessed his status, and the boy's been written off. The enemy commander has been incapacitated, so this is our only chance before the cavalry arrives." He said the word cavalry with undisguised disdain.  
  
Moving on to forming a plan, Midnight volunteered what she could about her deputized civilians. "I have an anti-gravity Quirk, an acid Quirk, and an object creation Quirk, all in the hands of capable civilian volunteers. If we can keep these ladies safe, they should be a big help in moving the shell while Mount Lady can fight her way into an organized retreat."  
  
If Eraserhead could have glared at her at such high speeds he would have. Midnight knew his opinion of deputizing civilians. He hated it. Even now, students from UA University were being relegated to mostly non-combat roles around the city at the direction of faculty heroes such as himself. Taking volunteers who had never even taken the first year of training into a combat zone was, to him, the height of irresponsibility. "You know I don't think that's a good idea."  
  
Midnight looked back over her shoulder at the three young women. None of them had spoken a word since her communication with Eraserhead had begun. All sat with full attention placed squarely on her. These women were putting their faith in her and wanted to justify her faith in them.  
  
"We're out of good ideas, Eraserhead. Now all we have are bad ideas and hope." Her tone did not leave room for an argument.  
  
There wasn't any time left for discussing the matter. They were too close. The battle was audible from their position. As they rounded another corner, what they saw was something completely unbelievable. Midnight actually laughed. It wasn't ironic or pained, but a thrilling sound of excitement and joy. The sight before them was the best thing she had seen all day.

  


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If Ochako had paid attention to where they were going instead of keeping her focus on Midnight, she might have recognized that they were now in the district her family called home. Block after block of densely packed apartments assaulted the senses with an onslaught of mundane sameness. The buildings were all repetitions of each other, an ugly but cost-efficient array of concrete structures designed to house as many people in as little space as possible. It wasn't the least desirable place in Japan to live, just the least desirable in Musutafu.  
  
Every major city in every first world nation has such a district, the part of town that just isn't as nice as the other parts. It's usually an older part of town in desperate need of redevelopment, or a part with government subsidized housing, or both. People live there because the rent is low, and they want to get out of there because it's crowded with neighbors, most of them less than friendly. Streetlights get repaired less often, which accounted for the current low visibility of the place. The police usually arrive late to the scene when crimes are reported compared to calls from nicer neighborhoods, resulting in entire districts being generally better prepared to deal with unwanted home incursions than the remainder of the citizenry.  
  
Illegal or not, that meant that most people in this neighborhood knew how to use their Quirk in a fight. So, when they saw a genuinely likable hero such as Mount Lady running for her life from a swarm of monsters, clutching desperately to her cargo which the creatures desperately wanted, the good but rowdy citizens of the neighborhood decided to fight. No vote was called. No rallying cry from a town leader was uttered. No such organization was needed; they all innately understood what the right thing to do was.  
  
The right thing to do was to kick some alien ass.  
  
The scene that Midnight, Eraserhead, and their civilian volunteers found was one of utterly glorious chaos. Quirks of every variety were on display and being put to uses most would never consider. An entire section of the street was awash with soap and suds thanks to an elderly woman's unusual cleanliness Quirk, and the apes there found little to no purchase to stand upright. This left them vulnerable to being pelted with masonry, fireworks, and hot wax thanks to the efforts of three enterprising youths. All four of these long-range attackers acted in support of a whole gang of brute force close range fighters, whose powers ranged from a young man covered in spikes to an older gentleman with the ability to sap strength away from anyone he touched. This elderly gentleman was becoming stronger and stronger as he traded blows with one particularly angry ape.  
  
Across the street a battle cry could be heard. "For Ingenium!" an elderly lady cried out as she lobbed something that looked to be a giant wad of chewing gum from the window of her apartment. The rallying cry was echoed from other windows as objects were thrown, shots were fired, and Quirks were activated across the neighborhood. As a full unit of the creatures was pelted from all sides, they raised their gauntlets up to shield themselves in something reminiscent to the classic turtle formation, moving forward as a slow methodical unit.  
  
Farther along on the other side of the street the creatures were rallying to defend themselves from an onslaught of fire and wax, accompanied by occasional blasts of gunpowder and an occasional rally cry of "For Ingenium!" from the windows. What struck Ochako though was the burly man holding the front line so that his neighbors could continue their ranged assault. He was swinging an old beat up car like it was a baseball bat, careful not to lose his grip on it in case his gravity-grip Quirk would stop working on it. Even on this moonless night and at this distance, she recognized him immediately and could not be any prouder of him than she was at that moment. Any regrets she may have had about leaving work without talking to her manager first were gone the moment she saw her father fighting to keep their neighbors and their building safe.  
  
Of course, all this violence and mayhem had a focal point. In the distance Mount Lady knelt low, significantly reducing her twenty-meter height. She way she struggled to moved and winced, Ochako could guess that the leg she kept behind her was injured. Worrisome yet almost comical, the gigantic woman was using the shell as a bludgeoning weapon to knock down and flatten any of the ape creatures that got too close. There was a crazed look in her eyes, a bloodlust reserved for these horrible creatures.  
They needed to get to her quickly. Despite intervention from the neighbors, squadrons of the creatures continued to pour through, pressing toward their objective and the woman guarding it.  
  
At Midnight's instruction, Momo made several more gas masks, one of which Eraserhead immediately put on. "The plan is simple." She said to the young women following them. "Leave the heavy fighting to the two of us. We're professionals. You're here to stay behind us and offer support. Act with discretion and to preserve your lives. Only do something risky if we order you to: otherwise you might do something we don't anticipate, and it will make protecting you more difficult. Miss Yaoyorozu: your job is to supply gas masks to front line fighters among the civilians so I can freely use my Quirk. Miss Ashido: your job is to use your acid as a tripping hazard and keep the enemy off balance but do it from a distance please. And please don't hit us with it." She made an apologetic gesture, knowing that there was not a diplomatic way to make that request.  
  
Midnight then turned to Ochako, who fixed her gaze away from her father in the distance and on the pro hero right in front of her. "There are more heroes coming, but no one is more qualified than you for this particular mission. Miss Urakara, I need you to use your Quirk on that shell so we can move it out of here and away from the city. Do you think you can keep it active for long term transport?" The question seemed curious on the surface, but the tone of her voice let Ochako know that the answer to this one question could mean life or death for all of them.  
  
All of them. The heroes. Her neighbors. Her father.  
  
"Yes. I can do it." Ochako said.  
  
Eraserhead stepped into the conversation. "I will be on the front lines with Midnight." He indicated the long scarves he wore, clearly replacements for his previous set. "However, once you make the shell weightless, I'll be the primary transportation for it. By towing it behind me I'll use up my scarves which will lower my combat utility. Fortunately, more heroes are on the way, but time is not on our side. We must get to that thing and move it outside the city. From there we'll worry about signaling the JSDF. In the meantime, everyone: keep a look out for the giant wasps. We abandon the plan if they arrive and regroup into a building in order to come up with a new strategy." His orders were clearly meant to be obeyed.  
  
But Ochako didn't know if she could obey those orders. If a major threat like that descended from the sky, she didn't know if she could retreat while her father was outside fighting. She considered telling the two heroes about that complication, about her father being visible from where they stood. Then she thought about how much this mission was relying on her and her Quirk….  
  
"Yes sir." She and the other two young women said. Even as the acknowledgement of her orders left her lips, Ochako prayed silently that she was doing the right thing. Staying close behind the two professionals, she and the two other young women charged in.

  



	11. The Symbol of Peace

{}

Katsuki's anger at missing so much of the fight was tempered only by his anticipation of joining the fray. The trip had been about half an hour but felt more like four long hours of adrenaline-fueled anticipation.  
  
Whaleface was laying out a series of instructions, but Katsuki was momentarily distracted by the approaching battle.  
  
As the car maneuvered a perilous turn to avoid a burning truck, a scene of glorious chaos revealed itself. The ugly ape bastards were struggling against an entire angry neighborhood of Quirks. Still, the things were persistent. They were making a formation of some kind, advancing slowly but surely through the constant bombardment the extras were throwing at them. In the distance beyond that formation he could barely make out a team of heroes making their way between formations of…  
  
"Kid, did you hear a single word I just said?" Katsuki was suddenly aware of just how little he had been listening to Whaleface.  
  
As if he wasn't embarrassed enough, the backseat admonishment was accompanied by the stinging sensation of his mother's hand smacking up across the back of his head. The car didn't swerve as she drove and struck out at Katsuki. She had years of practice at this. Thankfully, she said nothing to add to the embarrassment of her adult son receiving "needed percussive parenting" as she sometimes put it.  
  
His cheeks felt hot with his own self-recrimination. It stung worse than his mother's hand. Rather than bite back with a scathing remark, he contained himself as best he could. Gritting his teeth before speaking, he mustered as much humility as his body contained. "My apologies, sir. Please continue." Just speaking those words felt like a punch to the gut.  
  
"As I was saying. I'm in contact with Eraserhead. He and Midnight are guiding a team of deputized civilians toward the Shell. Our job is to join up with them. I'm here to confirm if the kid inside the shell is indeed alive. From the way these… things are obsessed with him; we're theorizing that he is but that they're using the shell like a biochemistry lab on him. We have a plan to get him away from them… and hopefully to break him out afterward." Gang Orca laid out the facts in a straightforward manner, but Katsuki caught the lurching pause in his words.  
  
There was no plan to get Deku out. All Might, the strongest hero in the world, couldn't break that shell. If not All Might, then who or what could? All they had was the desperate knowledge that these things wanted Deku, and they were willing to kill anyone that got in their way.  
  
But why Deku? Why would they obsess over him, over Quirkless useless Deku?  
  
And what was that thing that whispered to him earlier at the apartment complex? What did it mean when it said that Deku was gone? And why did the voice taunt him back then? What did the voice want with him? Were these things… was Deku their only target?  
  
There was no time for those thoughts. There were abundant distractions both inside his head and around them, but now he had to focus on Whaleface. Er… Gang Orca.  
  
Unfortunately, his internal distractions had thoroughly interrupted most of the actual plan. "Time to say bye to your mom, son. I'll give you both a moment." The hero said, opening the door. "You have about sixty seconds then we have to go."  
  
And just like that, it was mother and son alone in the car, watching the end of the world unfold before their eyes. Somehow Katsuki had to say goodbye to her, and she would have to trust him enough to drive away while he went straight into that mess of melee and fire. "Mom, I'll be fine. I promise…"  
  
"You can't promise me that you'll be fine when you're about to walk into that. Just… promise me that you'll try to stay safe, that you won't throw your life away for someone." She spoke up, cutting him off. She turned to look at him. The anger from earlier that day was replaced on her face with a mixture of pride and pain. He knew this was hard on her, leaving him to a scene of imminent danger. They both knew that it was possibly the last time they would ever see each other.  
  
Katsuki could die out there on that street, and his mother wouldn't even know while she was driving away. "Look. I'm sorry… I'm sorry I made such a mess. I'll make this right. I'll save Deku, kick some monster ass, and get a letter of recommendation to get into U.A… but I can't do any of that if I make that promise, mom."  
  
She looked genuinely hurt, tears welling in her eyes. She lunged across the divide between their seats and embraced him tightly. "That was the most mature thing you've ever said… I'm proud of you. I'm hard on you, I know… but I'm proud of you."  
  
Whaleface knocked on the glass of Katsuki's window. There was no more time. "I love you mom. Go get dad and get out of the city. I'll come join you. I'll find you both, ok?"  
  
He kissed his mother on the cheek, and in the process rubbed a tear from his own eye onto her face. He felt a part of himself die inside as he extracted her arms from around his shoulders and forced himself to keep his gaze forward as he turned and got out of the car.  
  
It took only a second for him to place his vulnerable emotions behind a wall of anger and ambition. It was as if no one was behind him, certainly not his mother who he might not live to see again. He gave Gang Orca a dangerous grin. "Ready when you are. Let's kick some ass." He slammed the door behind him.  
  
He was grateful that his mother was driving away to safety behind him. One foot in front of the other, he broke into a run alongside the veteran hero and charged into the battle ahead. Somewhere in that chaos ahead, he'd find Deku sleeping peacefully and uselessly inside a dumb looking conch shell. He'd figure out a way to blow it up… and then he'd punch Deku in the dick for worrying everyone.

  


{}

"Please," Inko begged again, her forehead pressed painfully into the floor. "Please show the heroes mercy. They mistakenly thought you were holding my son hostage. They couldn't understand… we're only human and know nothing of you or your people." She sobbed, her tears soaking into the tatami mat below her. She knew now that even the best heroes on the planet were helpless against these immortals.  
  
Inko alone had her vision opened to the native reality of their world. When the creature, Mahbagodeth, had written those symbols in the air… something that he did caused Inko's senses to thoroughly change. She immediately knew that this was more than just a hallucination. Her mind remained sharp and focused. The fact that her expanded sense of sight was real frightened her… or rather, what she had seen was so frightening that she was shaken to her core.  
  
There were far more of these things roaming around than anyone else could see. Inko, like everyone else, was aware of there being dozens upon dozens of these creatures, and only two varieties: the apes that had appeared earlier and a few wasps that were only now coming out of hiding. Now though, with her senses forced open to the ethereal nature of their enemies, Inko could see they numbered in the hundreds. There were three distinct varieties of each foe: the gigantic red ape-monsters that acted as the front lines, the rainbow hued wasps that emerged only in the past hour, and a third kind that she could catch peripheral glimpses of in the shadows.  
  
Most frightening of all, though, were the commanding officers. The woman that had taken on eight of the nation's top heroes remained whole and healthy while her opponents were heavily injured… at least the ones still alive. One hero had fallen already during the effort to take her down. For his sacrifice to be in vain was too painful a thought to bear. And now this inhuman creature next to her was preparing to finish what his companion had started. If Inko couldn't think of something, some ploy, some emotional appeal, some way to broker a peace, then everyone would die.  
  
Inko was gripped with the existential fear that preludes genocide, the severe dread that a disastrous death toll beyond comprehension loomed over her shoulders. As her fingers dug into the tatami mat beneath her, as her tears ran hot with desperation, she begged. "Please! I'll do anything! Please let me talk them into surrendering! Please! There's no need for anymore death…."  
  
Cold fear gripped her heart as she felt the long-brushed tips of claw-like hands touch against the side of her face. She had seen these same bristles drain blood directly out of a man's neck, and now the soft touch against her skin warned hear that she too could die here right at this moment. She dared to look up from where she knelt on the floor, following the eerie tactile prodding of the alien creature in front of her. The blood red mask showed no emotion, eyeless and expressionless. She had no way of knowing if this thing even had emotions…  
  
No. It did. It had laughed before. She knew that it could enjoy the suffering of its own peers.  
  
"You will do anything, you say? Do you mean to tell me that the mother of the Prince will do anything for this request? Anything at all?" The thing's vocal bones creaked together into a cobbled voice that cracked in her ears. The creature seemed unhealthily interested in her cooperation. Whatever it was going to ask her to do, she already knew that she would regret it.  
  
This moment was far past regrets for Inko. She had to do this. This was the only path in front of her, the only chance to save so many lives, to be with her son… even if the two of them would never go home again. "Yes, anything. Please instruct me… tell me what you want me to do."  
  
In that exact moment, she was prepared to hear anything. A bloody sacrifice. Suicide. Self-degradation. Perversion. Anything at all, any extreme and heartless demand, and she would not have blinked. It could have whisked her away right then and there on a journey to this distant city it spoke of, and she would have let it, holding onto those horrifying hand-claws the whole way.  
  
Inko was shocked into a surprised silence when the creature pulled a small statue made of salt from seemingly nowhere, manifesting it from errant sands on the wind. The object was perhaps thirty centimeters in length. It depicted a feminine figure with three discernible eyes, with the third placed in the center of her forehead. At the monster's wordless prompting, Inko got onto her knees and took the small statue into her hands. She noted that the exchange seemed almost reverent.  
  
"Behold Cecelyne, the Endless Desert, the Architect of Faith, and the Arbiter of Prayer." The creature placed its four claws together. The formation of its claws clasped together must have been a symbolic gesture from a religion she had never heard of before. "From her infinite nature arises Orabliss, the End of All Wisdom, and from the mind of Orabliss I, Mahbagodeth, am given shape. I shall now prepare the attack. Pray to Cecelyne, and if she so commands me, I shall show mercy."  
  
So that was it. It mocked her. Pray for me to be merciful, said the bully. Inko felt her heart break at the meaninglessness of the gesture, the obviousness of this taunt at her human frailty: you are weak, and the best you can do is pray. For a brief moment, she thought about the fact that her son's chief bully had told him to pray for a Quirk in his next life…  
  
Wait. Did Izuku pray for a Quirk? Was that part of why he was chosen? She set those questions aside for another time. Was this actually a taunt? "Please… instruct me Mahbagodeth… what is the right way to pray to Cecelyne?" She chose to play along, hoping for the request to prove once and for all either a taunt or an actual ray of hope.  
  
"Ah." The creature intoned. It spoke to her with no small amount of condescension, the way an adult might explain addition and subtraction to a child. "It is quite simple. Cecelyne, in her generosity, accepts prayer at any edifice dedicated to her, or indeed directed to her by name. But having a blessed relic such as this is helpful in ensuring the prayer is heard above the cacophony of requests she constantly receives. Many pray for gifts from her endless bounty, and many receive them."  
  
It stood straight and tall, moving its arms outward. She watched as small blades of obsidian formed at the tip of each of its brush-clawed fingers. The blades floated away, fluttering like tiny insects, only for more to appear. The mask glowed brightly. Words formed as symbols around the mask, once again in that alien script so foreign to her. "Pray Inko, mother of Prince Izuku. Pray now. For you have very little time to intercede on their behalf."  
  
The air quickly filled around her with tiny shards of obsidian. Testing one with an outstretched finger, Inko observed glasslike sharpness as it cut smoothly into her flesh. She stifled a cry of alarm and turned her gaze across the street where All Might and the other heroes were gathering. They had their attention locked onto the apartment where she, the news crew, and the Support Corps were trapped with this monster. She knew that they were planning to come and rescue her, to rescue all of them… but the situation was completely hopeless.  
  
She had no way of knowing if she was being mercilessly japed by a monster or offered a viable solution. There was only one way to find out. There was no way that Inko could know that Cecelyne was a dread deity one should never offer a prayer. "Cecelyne, gracious and generous, please hear this poor mother's prayer…"  
  
Inko grasped the salt idol tightly in her hands, causing the cut in her finger to sting horribly as blood tricked down the back of the statue. "Please help me broker peace between your servants… all of the forces sent here for my son Izuku… and the heroes who, like your servants, wish to protect and guide him… each in their own ways." The words felt like bile on her tongue and lips, the false admission of noble intention ascribed to her son's kidnappers, to murderers roaming the streets of their city. "Please stay the hands of your forces… please let there be peace and an end to the violence…"  
  
Cecelyne was listening intently.

  


{}

All Might stood alongside Endeavor at the edge of the rooftop. Hours ago, there was a safety fence here and a pristine view of the city. Now against a black backdrop of night the ruined fence and rubble of the rooftop gave way to a vista of cracked buildings and pockets of fire littered across the city. Doubtless this would be considered one of the worst terrorist acts of the decade, striking multiple soft targets in residential districts.  
  
Static and confusion plagued the Support Corps and the Hero Association, both literally and figuratively. Their communication relay system was thankfully switching to satellite backup, but even now the lines weren't as clear as they should be. The slow trickle of news from sites across the city painted a grim picture. Civilians, willingly or not, were being drawn into the battle in multiple neighborhoods. Some were rallying to support the heroes. Others were the victims of monsters while heroes were busy elsewhere.  
  
Most disturbing though were the reports coming in from just across the street in their temporary headquarters. The site had been compromised and every human inside, from Midoriya Inko to the Support Corp itself were now hostages. It was no wonder that the lines had static, as many of them were being remotely rerouted…  
  
And to make matters worse, the line was filled with chatter about the enemy being immortal… able to dematerialize and regrow their bodies. If that was true, then Ingenium died for nothing. They were fighting for nothing. It was a thought that disturbed the heroes deep into their cores. If that news was true, then they very likely were about to be the victims of a massive ambush. Yet they couldn't move toward the enemy position due to the hostage situation. What a mess.  
  
"Something's bothering me." Endeavor mused out loud.  
  
All Might raised an eyebrow at his rival. Even now he was fighting against the unending pain of a missing hand and struggling against his body's limits maintaining One for All. Add to that the shrapnel wounds the two of them had endured alongside the other heroes, a fatality that crippled the team, hostages just across the street, and supposedly immortal enemies… With a wry smile All Might replied, "Fine. I'll bite. On top of the obvious, Endeavor, what is bothering you?"  
  
"It's obvious this Sondok was… perhaps is… a warrior. Her gang of monsters clearly have training, at least enough to function together as cohesive units. And now we have reports of the enemy having air support and captives… but if I were in command of them, I'd have them behave completely differently. Why did they hold back their air support for so long? Why did they hold back their ability to ambush us while we treated Ingenium? It makes no sense. They may be immortal as the rumor on the line suggests, but even in that case that level of restraint seems absurd." Endeavor seemed irritated as he spoke, as though the inefficiency of the enemy was an insult he could not bear.  
  
All Might considered the situation, thinking aloud. "Even when I fought Sondok earlier, before your arrival… she held back. She refused to use her weapons at first, and only used her sword after I dislodged the shell from the roof for Mount Lady to catch." His stump of an arm pulsed at the memory of her first and most potent strike, the one that set the tone for the remainder of the battle. Even then, he wondered why she chose to cut off a limb that was already rendered so useless…  
  
The ninja Edgeshot interjected into the conversation. "That sounds like we're dealing with warriors… but not soldiers. It may be a clue into their command structure as well."  
  
All Might and Endeavor both turned their heads to regard the man. It seemed a compelling point. "Please, elaborate." Endeavor prompted.  
  
Edgeshot gestured across the street. "We're getting reports that the newest breed of enemy, these giant wasps, only appeared when the named foe appeared in our headquarters. It could be that different breeds of devas report only to their own superior officer… and those officers each want personal glory more than they want the mission to succeed."  
  
All Might was immediately reminded of Japan's earlier history; the struggles of the ruling warrior class before the Meiji era were littered with stories of samurai, elite warriors of those bygone eras, and their quests for personal glory. Rendering themselves obvious targets, they would wear banners on the battlefield so that not only could they avoid being mistaken for the enemy but so their own accomplishments could be noted. It was the opposite mentality of the modern soldier: accomplish the needs of the mission by any means necessary, and work as a team toward that goal. Personal aggrandizement was not part of that equation.  
  
All Might gave a sideways glance to Endeavor after that last thought, realizing he shouldn't say that out loud. He chose a different form of tact instead. "We may be dealing with individual warrior clans rather than a single cohesive military… how do we use that to our advantage?"  
  
Before Endeavor could answer, they found themselves taking defensive positions as the enemy made their move. The surrounding rooftops were filled with dozens of the ape-like creatures they had all fought before but were now joined by a swarm of human sized wasps that flitted between the buildings. But the worst problem emerged from the balcony across the street.  
  
Thousands of tiny shards of glass-like obsidian were obscured in the moonless night, surrounding the heroes by surprise. The cloud of death was more easily heard than it was seen, softly whispering through the air like an insect swarm. Even as Cementoss prepared shields of concrete, ready to close it at any moment into a makeshift bunker, their position on the rooftop was supremely vulnerable. They found themselves engulfed in darkness as the mass of sharpened stones interrupted their vision, blockading any light from the street below.  
  
Over the whispering storm of stones, the noise of an oncoming helicopter filled their ears. Where before the distant vehicle's approach was mournful to their vision, now its proximity filled their hearts with dread, as they feared not only for their own lives but for the crew of that vehicle. "Incoming aircraft, this is All Might. Reverse course. Abort medical extraction. I repeat, abort medical extraction. Get out of here and save your own lives."  
  
Even as he spoke through the comm system, All Might prepared himself. With a single strong punch, he could generate enough force to blow a giant hole in this whirling cloud of blades. He hoped that would be enough time for the rest of the heroes to escape. It was a sobering thought: they were no longer thinking in terms of winning or losing, but of escape.  
  
Even in this darkest hour, even with the loss of Ingenium and his own hand, nothing prepared him for the terrible heartache he would feel when the comms flared to life in his ear.

  


{}

Inko knew that what she was experiencing was a vision, a lucid dreamlike state. She knew that she was kneeling on the floor of a stranger's apartment next to a monster. She knew that she was praying, as futile a gesture as that seemed. However, she never expected the deity to respond to her in such a personal way.  
  
When she closed her eyes, Inko found herself in a vast open-air temple beneath a strange and alien sky. A Green Sun shone far off in the distance against a garish yellow-brown sky.  
  
She blinked, blocking the light out, only to find that she had opened her eyes and was once again kneeling in the dark room next to the monstrous masked fiend… rather than ponder that she shut her eyes hard and continued to pray.  
  
Light flooded her senses, as did heat and sand as far as the eye could see. The air was so dry that her throat was immediately parched. No human could survive here for long.  
  
Desperately she turned looking around her for some meaning or sense to this place, some sign of what she was supposed to do. That was when she saw an altar half buried in sand. Behind it was a great pillar of salt. She ran as best as she could in the heat, while wind swept in sand from the surrounding desert.  
  
Inko could barely approach the altar. It had been exposed too long to the radiant heat of that strange Green Sun overhead. She feared what would happen if she touched it.  
  
"Cecelyne." She called out. The name she really wanted to call out was Izuku's.  
  
And then the pillar of salt turned to regard her. Inko yelped a meaningless noise of shock.  
  
"Utter your request, mortal. I hear your prayers. You will find that I am the most generous of the Primordial race." The voice came not from the pillar, but from echoes across the desert that surrounded the temple.  
  
Inko wanted to ask for her son, Izuku, and for him to come home. She wanted to ask for the dead and injured to be restored to full health. She wanted to ask for the whole day to start over and to have events unfold in a completely different direction… but that was all impossible. This thing in front of her probably had the power for such requests, but it was the monster that employed the ones currently attacked the city…  
  
Inko steeled her resolve and stood defiantly in the heat. "Please, Cecelyne… please command the bodyguards sent for my son's protection to stop attacking and killing the humans, the heroes, the civilians… all of us. We are ignorant mortals and are no threat to you or your servants." In a show of subservience, she then knelt and bowed before the altar. The heat burned her knees as sands engulfed her legs with what felt like radiant fire.  
  
Blessedly Inko's back felt cool as the shadow of the pillar stretched over her. "I will grant you this favor, mortal, if you accept my generosity."  
  
A sensation that Inko could not describe took root in her heart. Somehow, she knew deep in her mind, in her heart, in every fibre of her being that this favor wasn't free. She almost wanted to laugh that even omnipotent spirits relied on fine print as they asked you to quickly scroll down and accept the terms and conditions.  
  
"I accept your generous favor." Inko felt bile in her throat as she spoke the words. The back of her mind, or perhaps it was her soul, felt heavier as Inko's debt accumulated in Ceclyne's ledgers.

  


{}

"All Might, is that you?" Inko asked in the comm system. Her voice sounded weak to All Might, and he was certain it had nothing to do with the signal.  
  
Death loomed over him, but in that moment all he could think about was her wellbeing. "Miss Midoriya. Are you well, have they hurt you?"  
  
There was a pause on the line. The heroes exchanged worried glanced with each other. "I'm fine All Might. I'm contacting you because… because I've plead our case with Mahbagodeth, who is equal in rank to Sondok… the woman you've been fighting…"  
  
Endeavor and the others appeared to balance on the edge of a blade next to him, teetering between hope and despair. All Might had no idea what kind of facial expression he was showing them, only that he wasn't the smiling hero he always wanted to be. "What was… his reply?"  
  
The sound of Inko unmistakably sobbing caused his heart to lurch. His helplessness to aid her felt just as painful as his missing hand. "Sorry, I'm fine… I… He had me speak to his superior. She… her name is Cecelyne…"  
  
He listened as Inko took several calming breaths. "You're doing fine, Miss Midoriya. Tell us what it is they want, and let's try to work this out."  
  
After pausing a bit longer, likely to muster her courage, she spoke into the microphone again. "They want you, All Might."  
  
He nodded, understanding as best he could. "I think I see where this is going, Miss Midoriya. Please, continue." He turned away from Endeavor and Edgeshot who each had grave looks of concern on their faces. Cementoss did not appear much better. All Might could practically hear each of them sternly lecturing him that no, he would not let himself become a hostage.  
  
"Of course," she said to him. "They want you as a hostage in trade for all of us in here and all of you… out there… and as a condition for the fighting to stop." She was having obvious difficulty saying the right things. Everything about this situation must be tearing her nerves apart.  
  
Even though she couldn't see it, he tried to put on a smile for her sake. "It's alright. I'm here." He said to her, comforting her through this. "You're doing great. Let me see if I understand, and just tell me yes or no. Alright?"  
  
"Alright…" she replied nervously. Her fear was palpable across the line.  
  
"If I agree to become their captive, all of the hostages in there will be let go… does that include you?" he asked, despite Endeavor shaking his head.  
  
"No. I've agreed to stay on with them and… to go where they're taking Izuku." She said. The pain in her voice stung at him, as did his unfulfilled promise to her.  
  
"I see, and I understand why you'd do that. Don't feel bad about that, alright?" he said, looking around at the darkness surrounding him and the other heroes. He could no longer make out the enemies beyond the cloud of blades. "So… by agreeing to this, they also promise to let the other heroes here go free, and to stop the fighting elsewhere in the city?"  
  
He could practically see her nodding as she spoke. "Yes. They've agreed to let the others go, including… Ingenium… but you'd have to stay here with me… and they said that if anyone else broke the peace as an individual that they'd treat it as an individual act… but anything more organized than that and they would kill you."  
  
He almost hated to ask, but he had to. "And in this deal… what happens to your son?"  
  
She openly cried. He wished he could be there for her. He had never felt like such a failure as a hero in all his life, not like this. "They won't negotiate about Izuku… they want him more than anything… I… I'm sorry All Might… but I'm his mother… if he can't come home, I have to make a deal… I have to go with him!"  
  
He nodded, understanding. "Don't blame yourself. I don't know how or when, but I will work at it until I fulfill my promise and bring your son home to you." He hoped that his words would resonate with her and help her get through this.  
  
"Thank you," she said, "for inspiring him for so long."  
  
It wasn't gratitude that he needed right at that moment. "Inko… can we trust them to keep to their word? Is there anything holding them to these promises?" He needed reassurance that if he went along with this that it would be meaningful.  
  
Endeavor had had enough, apparently. "All Might, you cannot be entertaining this idea…"  
  
"Let her speak, Endeavor." Cementoss interrupted. Edgeshot said nothing.  
  
Inko paused on the other end of the line. For a moment All Might was worried that she was being forced to say these things against her will. Thankfully she resumed speaking, but her words did not assuage his fears. "By agreeing to this peace… Cecelyne… their boss… goddess… is putting me in debt."  
  
That comment earned more than one raised eyebrow among the heroes. "Miss Midoriya, please explain. How are you in debt?"  
  
"She used a Quirk… or… Charm on me. It seems that, by giving me something I want, she gets to reserve a single command for me… and… someday she'll use it on me. It can be anything. I know that she only wants that power over me because of Izuku but… I had to All Might… I'm sorry!" she cried out, a mournful wail at her helplessness and her desperation for her son, and the knowledge that what she had done would one day be used to hurt him.  
  
"It's alright, Miss Midoriya… and you can let them know that I think it's a fairly good deal. I'm willing to go along with it, but we'll need to hammer out the details of the hostage exchange." All Might's comment caused apoplectic alarm on Endeavor's face, and no small amount of emotion in Inko… but All Might had a hidden reason that he felt that this exchange was a good idea.  
  
He knew that he was probably minutes away from losing complete control of his body. He was well past his current limits for maintaining the muscular form afforded him by One for All. If he could negotiate a peace that would give the other heroes and hostages a chance, then that would be a far better contribution than he could make otherwise.  
  
"That is a wise decision." The voice sounded like a scratched-up record. It emanated from the orbiting stones around them. "Let us discuss those details here and now."  
  
Light, however sparse it was, flooded the vision of All Might and the other heroes as the blades of obsidian parted like a theatre curtain, allowing two gigantic wasps to fly into the eye of the blade-storm unharmed. Between them they carried a pair of interlinked black and gold chains ending in four clasps at the ends. The purpose was clearly to cuff and immobilize a prisoner.  
  
They were here to imprison All Might.  
  
"You can't go through with this, All Might. This is worse than a mistake. This is insane! We're up against impossible odds! How will we stand a chance without you?!" Endeavor's anger caused him to say things that surprised even himself. It was the closest he had ever come to admitting that the world, or that he, needed All Might.  
  
As much as it pained him, All Might ignored Endeavor. The two insects landed a respectful distance away from the heroes. Their wings illuminated the darkness with a myriad of colors. They were clearly bioluminescent, but none of the men there could hazard how the mechanism of it all worked.  
  
"I am listening… but first, introduce yourself." All Might replied to the voice that surrounded them.  
  
The voice took on a dual toned quality, discordant and jarring to their ears. "I am Mahbagodeth, the Inkwell of Blood, Understanding Soul of Orablis, who is The End of All Wisdom and the Sixth Soul of Cecelyne."  
  
It was a strange juxtaposition, All Might thought. Where Sondok's officer introduced her based upon her deeds, this one when self-identified rooted his own introduction based upon the hierarchy he reported to. The difference in their psychology was vast. "A pleasure to meet you. Now, how will we engage in this trade?"  
  
"Our terms are non-negotiable. You will wear the Manacles of Night my servants have provided to you and submit yourself to them for transportation. Then I will release from my custody all humans in this structure and order all devas into a temporary retreat. I will divert the sorcery that surrounds you harmlessly away once you and your compatriots order your comrades away from the Chrysalis of the Shining Prince. Comply immediately… or I will kill you all right now and then proceed to eradicate all human life in this city." The terms were harsh, as was the voice itself. All Might knew he had no time to consider these options…  
  
He was about to become much weaker.  
  
His earlier mistake, attacking Sondok… he blamed himself for the outpouring of violence that followed. This imprisonment would be a fitting retribution for that mistake, even if no one else ever blamed him for any of this. "I will comply. Will I be in custody with Miss Midoriya?"  
  
Endeavor and Edgeshot both tensed up at All Might's capitulation. Rigid with anger, Endeavor spoke up. "It's not over… we can… bust through this… with your power and my fire we can…" He struggled with his words, his own anger and desperation tripping his tongue.  
  
"No." Cementoss said, depressed by their failure. "We can't gamble the lives of the entire city on our own ability to fight… we might win… but it would be a Pyrrhic victory. We aren't heroes so that we can win fights, Endeavor… we became heroes so that we could save lives… that's what All Might is trying to do. We shouldn't stop him."  
  
All Might could not express gratitude to Cementoss. He could not do anything that would endanger his own secret, the secret of One for All.  
  
Edgeshot looked at Cementoss with far more venom in his eye than Endeavor did. Perhaps the bitterness came from the fact that Cementoss was the least injured man of the roof. Perhaps Edgeshot was bitter over losing an eye and a friend to these monsters before waving a flag of surrender. Regardless, he did not say anything, and redirected his gaze to the strange insectile creatures and the chain they held between them.  
  
The creatures did not speak as they held the chains out in front of them, the manacles open like hungry mouths. The voice resonated from all around them. "You and she will both be in my care. Now. Comply." Even with the alien staccato the thing's impatience was showing through.  
  
All Might strode forward, placing himself directly in front of the strange creatures and their nightmarish chain. Despire their odd appearance, it was the chain that drew his eyes. The thing hurt to look at, as though the links themselves were malevolent. The dark and gold patterns seemed to move and fight each other on each link. The metal was unlike anything he had ever seen before. There was, however, no time to contemplate, or to doubt his course.  
  
All Might reached forward and clasped one of the manacles in his hand. He ignored how vulnerable the position made him and knelt to place the hungry looking device over his ankle. Immediately, he felt weaker.  
  
Light flooded the area. All Might looked over his shoulder and could see that Miss Midoriya was on the distant balcony, as was the news crew that was trapped with her. Behind them he could see the strangest and most vile creature he had ever laid eyes on. Even from this distance he could see it was a hollow twisted thing composed of a bloody mask and a leather cloak. Physically he had seen things far worse… but he knew just by looking at the creature's face that this being had no humanity in it, nothing that would let it empathize with human suffering or emotion.  
  
What truly disgusted him though was how it had manipulated all of them, even its own comrades. Sondok, it's equal in rank, had taken the fight out of the heroes. Miss Midoriya was the ideal hostage. The news crew, also in danger, would be used as tools to compel the submission of the other heroes and the military… and All Might chided himself for his own predictability. This creature had played all of them like puppets, toward a goal he still did not understand… and now it was too late to fight back.  
It was time for All Might to attach the rest of the puppeteer's strings, he told himself.  
  
The chains were heavy, far heavier than they were before he had secured his ankle. Moving the manacled leg felt awkward and difficult as he prepared to trap his remaining ankle. Once both legs were secured, he felt it was almost impossible to stand, but he had to. He was All Might, the Symbol of Peace. He had to stand as the world watched. He may become a hostage, but he would not scrape and grovel. He would not sully the hopes of those who relied on him.  
  
He could not encase his own wrist, lacking a hand to do the work. Instead, All Might offered his own remaining hand as one of the creatures manipulated the metal device in place. The thing hummed a strange melody as it worked. The creature smelled like meat wrapped in newspaper.  
  
Once his arm was secure, All Might felt almost dizzy with weakness. But he stood resolute.  
  
"I have donned your chains. Now. Release the hostages." He demanded, throwing what little strength remained in him into his voice.  
  
The discord replied. "You are not done. There is one manacle remaining." Although the thing did not sound human, all Might could tell it enjoyed watching him debase himself with voluntary captivity.  
  
He tried not to glare at the thing. It couldn't be helped. "I have no wrist to encase." He spat the words with more venom than he would have liked. He did not want to antagonize this thing, not while it had hostages in striking distance.  
  
A long-clawed arm stretched to point at him. Next to the creature, All Might saw that Miss Midoriya was crying. "Your neck will do fine, human."  
  
All Might grasped at the remaining manacle roughly, forcing it from the claws of the insect in front of him. He turned his back to the creatures and faced their master head on, glaring at him from across the rooftop and the chasm between the two buildings. "Fine. But you will fulfill your promise."  
  
"Indeed. I will." It spoke neutrally.  
  
All Might placed the device around his own neck, and it clamped itself shut. The sensation of weakness that assaulted him was immediate. He was afraid of this, afraid that his own limit would hit him at the wrong moment. Somehow though he felt much worse than any time it had struck him before.  
  
The manacles tightened around is limbs and neck, choking him. He struggled to breath, to pull on the metal noose around his neck. The device loosened, then tightened again, as though the metal pulsed with strength at his expense. All too late he realized that it was his own strength that provided power to this alien device. All Might had not reached the limits of One for All… this device was shutting his Quirk down completely.  
  
Toshinori struggled in vain. His weakness was now on camera for the whole world to see. He could not feel the core of All for One in his heart. He could barely stand. He coughed up blood as he bent over to retch. Scrawny, weak, and injured, he couldn't even fit in the clothes he was wearing.  
  
Toshinori could not make out the shouts of alarm from the heroes around him. He barely made out the fact that Miss Midoriya was screaming in the distance. But even as his head faced downward, obscuring his face from view… he smiled.  
  
Perhaps this strange and horrid creature had accidentally played into Toshinori's hands. His own limits, bared for the whole world to see, now appeared to be the work of alien technology and not an inherent weakness in Toshinori himself. The world saw how weak Toshinori really was, but the illusion of a dauntless All Might would remain intact despite his own frailty and failings.  
  
Wiping blood from his mouth, he got back up. Raising his chained hand up defiantly, a fist pointed to the heavens, he roared like a cornered lion. "I have fulfilled my end of the bargain. Now… release the hostages!"  
  
Toshinori was their captive, but the Symbol of Peace was free.

  



	12. Deku

{}

Once the brutish creature was rendered weightless by Ochako, Eraserhead had no trouble at all using his bindings to throw it to the side. It impacted against the side of a building with a satisfying crunch. The remainder of the squadron they were fighting moved sluggishly, impaired but not stopped completely by Midnight's gaseous aura of slumber.  
  
One of the hulking creatures got past both Midnight and Eraserhead, lunging for Mina and Momo's position. Momo readied a long spear to keep it ay bay while Mina sprayed the creature's face with acid. Unexpectedly it was struck with a car, thrown at it by a distant Mr. Uraraka. There was no time to shout gratitude for his assistance. Other than Ochako, none of them knew who he was.  
  
Father and daughter made eye contact from across the divide of battle. He smiled at her. Her chest filled with warmth and pride as she returned his smile. Momo tossed a gas mask to Ochako, who rendered it weightless before throwing it to her father. It was the best form of gratitude they could offer at the time.  
  
Over the chaos of battle, a distant audible humming invaded their senses. "Wasps!" Eraserhead called out. "After me! Take cover!"  
  
The enemy air support had arrived.  
  
With frightening accuracy, the airborne creatures moved into Midnight's miasma, using their constantly beating wings to dissipate the gas. Rather than move mindlessly to kill civilians as the heroes had expected, they focused on bringing more of the ape creatures back into the fight.  
  
"Die!" the shout rang across the street, a roar of defiant violence, almost as loud as the explosion that accompanied it. Gang Orca and his loud deputy, Bakugou Katsuki, had arrived on the scene. The young would-be hero launched himself skyward, far beyond the reach of the hero in charge of him. His objective: the wasps that endangered the ground operations of the heroes below.  
  
He spun with concussive force as he blasted enemies on all sides, tearing their wings to shreds. Their armored carapace proved more resilient, allow them to survive the fall once rendered flightless. The task of finishing the creatures off fell to Gang Orca, who used his own brutal strength to crush and incapacitate them.  
  
As Katsuki softened his own landing with a set of smaller bursts, Gang Orca shouted toward him. "We're joining with Eraserhead! Help me provide cover for them!"  
  
Rising to the sky like a rocket, Katsuki propelled himself toward the two other heroes and their deputies, diverting his course to kill two more giant wasps. He focused more explosive power on these than he used on the first group, unsatisfied with the idea that they would survive his power. "Die!" he cried out again. He barely dodged a spray of acid from the aerial foes, the stench of paper and meat filling his nostrils as his explosions tore the enemy apart.  
  
Everyone was surprised when one of the larger ape-monsters launched itself skyward, leaping to snatch the explosive young man from air. Its violent intentions were clear: even if it faced explosive destruction, it would gladly die to kill this enemy. Katsuki smelled blood and gore as the thing hurtled in the air toward him. His own explosions helped to create distance between them as he retreated through the air… only to see a second one leap at him from behind.  
  
For the first time, Bakugou Katsuki was worried that he would die here on a street whose name he didn't know. A fleeting though of his mother and father ran through his head… he wondered if Deku would be alive long enough to mourn him… he wondered if Deku would mourn him.  
  
Fuck Deku, he thought. With a smartass smirk he let loose a series of explosive blasts that sent him away from the ape monsters like a missile knocked off course. He was satisfied that one of them was burned in the process, but he couldn't see how badly. He landed near the other hero team. "The cavalry has fucking arrived!" he remarked proudly, rescuing his own ass from the monsters.  
  
The synchrony of the heroes' movements was amazing, as they moved with whip and bindings to pull the oncoming ape monsters across a pool of acid toward Katsuki, who struck the off-balance creatures with explosions to their faces. The detonations were precise, targeting their ugly faces.  
  
Once Gang Orca plowed through another crowd of the monsters, his sonar disorienting them, the group moved quickly down the street together. They were joined by several civilians, among them Ochako's father. Eraserhead shouted an order back to the civilians, to watch after their own lives. "We can't force you to stay behind… but if you come with us you could die out here!"  
  
The civilians did not respond. They had accepted the risks.  
  
Running, the group kept Mina to the rear with Gang Orca. His mass of muscle would protect the group while she left a trail of acid as a tripping hazard. Ochako and Momo were in the center, protected by the forward flanking formation. Momo made two more gas masks as they ran, and Ochako made sure they got to Katsuki and Gang Orca. There was no time for introductions beyond that exchange. Eraserhead took point with Midnight to his right, and Katsuki to his left. They moved as a single unit, quickly gaining ground as they fought off stragglers and ambushes.  
  
Mount Lady was clearly visible up ahead. Her struggle was desperate. The creatures swarmed around her. Her legs were cut and bleeding from multiple attacks. Some of the wounds were clearly bite marks. She wouldn't be able to stand much more of this.  
Katsuki saw more than that though. In her desperation, she was using the shell, the Chrysalis, as a cudgel. A fair number of splattered monster corpses littered the ground around her, ignored by their fellows except as mounds of flesh to climb on their way to the battle ahead. The shell was painful to look at, making his eyes feel like they were being twisted inside his head. "Deku is inside that thing…" he uttered, unable to keep the words inside.  
  
Eraserhead was going to remark back, inquire what the young man's relationship was to the boy in the shell… when Katsuki suddenly burst ahead from the group, breaking formation. "No, you idiot! Stay with the formation!"  
  
Katsuki could not hear anything outside of his own rage. Deku was an annoying pebble, but god damn it, he didn't deserve this shit! "Fucking die!" he roared as he unleashed a torrent of explosive power, carpet bombing the enemy as they piled on each other in order to attack Mount Lady. Bakugou's actions caught over a dozen of the creatures, igniting the fur on their backs. The fires added crimson illumination to the entire city block, sharply contrasting to the dim lights of the city. Residents of the area had intelligently left their own lights off, lowering visibility dramatically and leaving the heroes at the mercy of a few ill kept streetlights.  
  
The hulking monsters made surprisingly good fuel.  
  
Midnight flooded the area with gas. Combined with the smoke, the entire block became extremely dangerous. Passing out in her gas would eventually lead to carbon monoxide poison due to the fumes of burning beast flesh. The street filled with the stench of burning hair and charred meat, and the undertone of decayed carrion refused to leave the air. If not for the gas masks that Momo even now was distributing to the accompanying civilians, the entire party would be in extreme danger just from breathing.  
  
With Gang Orca's raw strength, Midnight's gas, and Eraserhead's bindings, they were faring well. Adding the support of Mina's acid, Ochako's anti-gravity touch, and Momo's ability to make any supply item they needed, and the three heroes were doing exceptionally well. Katsuki's explosions, and additional civilian support from Mr. Urarake and his neighbors, helped clinch a decisive overkill factor in their favor. Victory, though hard won, felt like it was within their reach. Mount Lady's cavarly was finally here.  
  
The less experienced fighters, deputies and civilians both, let out premature cries of joy when the enemy began to retreat. The four heroes knew better. As hard as it had been to get here, they knew that the enemy was fixated on the shell and the boy inside. They would not abandon it easily. It was, however, a chance they couldn't ignore. "Miss Uraraka, this may be a feint of the enemy, but it's the only opening we might have…" Eraserhead spoke, bidding her to approach. He turned to gaze upward at the hardest fighter in the city, the one who had been left on her own the longest. "Mount Lady, if you wouldn't mind…"  
  
The four professionals went stiff as they stopped talking to take in the voice erupting from the comms system. The three younger women all looked on with concern. The air of victory they were all feeling felt somehow spoiled by the expressions of despair on the faces of the four heroes with them. Mount Lady set the shell down gently on the ground, a look of absolute anguish ruining her beautiful face. Katsuki landed nearby, the last to see that something was amiss.  
  
Momo, standing close to Midnight, was barely able to make out the voice of Endeavor, the Fire Hero. She didn't catch the first pass of the message but managed to hear the second iteration. "A ceasefire has been called. I repeat: a ceasefire has been called. All heroes: do not pursue the enemy in their retreat. Do not pursue. A hostage exchange has taken place. All Support Corps members have been set free…" The message seemed full of hope… "All Might has surrendered to the enemy as a hostage in exchange for the release of all other hostages and for the ceasefire..."  
  
The voice droned on with more details of the exchange, but Momo became too emotional to take it in. She gasped, tears threatening to flood her eyes. The two other young women and the civilians looked to her and Midnight, wondering just what had happened.  
  
For his part, Katsuki turned towards Gang Orca, wondering what had gone wrong. After all, they had won. Deku was sitting right there. The shell was just ten meters away. "So… why aren't we grabbing the thing and going? I mean…" He was disturbed by the silent despair on Gang Orca's face.  
  
Mount Lady's fist pounded down onto the street in anguish. Tears of frustration threatened to remove her already tarnished mask. "I didn't fight so hard for… this!" She blurted out the words.  
  
"Someone tell me what the fuck is going on!" Katsuki demanded. The other extras nearby seemed to feel the same way as him, but it was clear to him that he was the only one brave enough to get answers.  
  
"The hostages in the apartment complex were released… in exchange for All Might. Midoriya Inko remains in their custody along with All Might. All fighting has stopped…" Eraserhead said flatly. He showed no sign of emotion.  
  
Midnight covered her face, not wanting to show her own emotions. Gang Orca clenched his fists and said nothing. Momo and Mina each were distraught like Midnight. Ochako dropped all pretense of professionalism and ran to her father, who embraced her. Mount Lady continued to weep.  
  
Katsuki didn't understand what he had just heard, or rather he refused to understand. "So… ok. There's a ceasefire. That's the best time for us to move Deku out of here… we came all this way to rescue him, right? Right?! So, let's haul ass and get him out of this thing!" He refused to acknowledge the hairs standing on the back of his neck, the cold sweat on his brow. He refused to think about the implications of their words.  
  
Eraserhead's eye twitched near where his face had been burnt. "If we disturb the shell, the enemy will execute All Might."  
  
Mina turned to Momo, bawling her eyes out as she stained the taller woman's blouse with her tears and makeup. The others remained in the same level of emotional turmoil from before Eraserhead's revelation, though perhaps their intensity increased.  
  
For Katsuki, none of the others mattered. He tunnel vision-ed his focus onto Eraserhead. "Deku… I… go to school with him." He almost called Deku his friend but felt horrible even thinking that. He didn't want to consider why it made him feel so terrible. "He's alone in there. We have to… I have to help him!"  
  
Gang Orca straightened up and marched towards the shell. Eraserhead tried to get in the larger man's way. "Orca… don't disturb the shell. All Might…"  
  
Orca brushed Eraserhead's hand away. "I'm just seeing if the kid is still alive. We'll talk after."  
  
Katsuki felt something dangerously akin to hope, believing that if Deku was alive and healthy, that maybe they'd risk the enemy's anger and rescue him anyway…  
  
The large man, wounded repeatedly from multiple battles, strode forward. He ignored the pain of his own body screaming at him, his own blood loss. He placed a large hand firmly against the shell and closed his eyes.  
  
Waves of sound could be felt by everyone there, strongly reverberating through their feet and up through their hearts. Orca pulsed wave after wave of sound, as though thrashing desperate and lost at sea. His face creased with frustrated concentration. "He's… gone." He despaired aloud. "He's… liquified."  
  
Katsuki didn't hear that right. It had to be a joke. The girls around him cried… but for what? It all made no sense to him. "No!" he shouted. "Deku is alive! I promised I'd rescue him! I'm getting him out of that thing!"  
  
"Stop." Eraserhead said.  
  
The young blonde ignored the professional hero as he strode purposefully towards the shell. "Deku! I know you're in there you spineless little shit!" he shouted, powering up as much explosive power into his hands as he could. This would be the biggest one he had ever produced… but he had a promise to fulfill.  
  
He had to redeem himself.  
  
A beacon, a spotlight from an overhead helicopter, flooded the area with light. Katsuki could see this fucking cage in all it's alien horror. Every nook and cranny, every twist of its metallic geometry, all reflected in the sudden onslaught of light. "I'm getting you out of there and taking your Quirkless ass home!"  
  
Eraserhead launched a binding coil of faux cloth at the raging young man, but it was knocked aside by a powerful explosion. Katsuki continued to advance, building more power. "Everyone's been worried about you, you fucking ass wipe!"  
  
Finally, point-blank range. Gang Orca wisely had stepped aside. Katsuki knew that this explosion would be big enough that he could accidentally kill himself with it. However, if All Might couldn't break this thing with an overpowered punch, then Katsuki would need every ounce of his own explosive power all focused onto a single point to even crack this thing.  
  
So, he unleashed everything. All at once. Putting all his feeling and all his power into a single defining moment, he struck forward, forcing as powerful a blast as he could in as tight a space as possible… but nothing happened. There was no explosion.  
  
Bindings wrapped around his shoulder and his waist. Despair filled him when he finally remembered what Eraserhead's Quirk did to other Quirks. For the first time in his life, Katsuki felt what it was to be powerless… Quirkless… the same feeling he had rubbed into Deku's face for years. He lashed out, striking the shell with all the futility of a child's tantrum.  
  
None of the heroes or their deputies present would ever forget the image. Katsuki clung helplessly and futilely to the side of the shell. They didn't understand his relationship with the boy inside. They did however ache for the anguish that none of them could free him… not anymore.  
  
"I'm sorry Deku…" Katsuki whispered. Tears filled his eyes. Tears! Fucking tears! For stupid Deku! Fuck! "Fuck it Deku! I want to help you! But I can't! We can't save you! You have to get yourself out of there! You have to get out here! Deku!" Tears flowed down his face as an expression of undilutable rage consumed his facial features. He beat the shell so hard with his fist that the onlookers were afraid he'd break his own bones, punching it as though it weren't a warped wall of metal.  
  
His anger only seemed to grow with each tear that left his eyes. Eraserhead pulled hard on the bindings to restrain the young man, but Katsuki forced his feet into the ground and leaned in towards the shell, shouting at it even as he was dragged away. "They have your mom, Deku! They have All Might! Do you hear me?! Do you, Deku?! They have your mom!" His volume increased feverishly. He tasted his own blood from how much strain he paced on his voice. It was sad to watch, as though his shouting at this dormant shell would have some kind of reaction.  
  
Until suddenly, there actually was a reaction.  
  
It began as two small points of light, like faint green stars shining through the surface of the shell. Most of them didn't notice because Bakugou Katsuki was still shouting, obscenely thrashing about as he did so to fight against Eraserhead's bindings. As the two lights grew brighter, they were joined by a third. It was clear to all present that the light wasn't from outside the shell, but from somewhere inside…  
  
"He can hear me…" Katsuki whispered at first. His voice was hoarse, sore. His throat was bleeding from how loud he had screamed at Deku just now. But he'd recover, he told himself. He laughed a bit, ignoring that the bindings were coming loose. "He can hear me!" he declared loudly.  
  
Everyone was shocked by what they were seeing, none more so than Mount Lady and Eraserhead. She had carried this giant weight around for the better part of several hours on end without a single reaction from the boy inside. Eraserhead for his part had given up on the situation once All Might had been captured… but now he was reconsidering their options. If communication could be established, perhaps they could skirt around the agreement.  
  
"Kid." Eraserhead spoke up, getting Katsuki's attention. "Do you think you have a better shot reaching through to him than the rest of us? We're short on time. The enemy commanders will head this way, and once they get here we have to retreat."  
  
Katsuki nodded. "I can get through to Deku."  
  
"The kid's name is Midoriya Izuku..." Eraserhead commented.  
  
"Deku is a nickname I gave him… a different way to use the kanji in his name." Katsuki told the half-truth with only mild discomfort. "Now, let me talk to him. Anything you want me to ask?" He had the nerve to smirk despite how sore his voice was.  
  
"Just establish whether he can understand what you're saying." Eraserhead said flatly.  
  
Katsuki was dimly aware that the others around him were speaking to each other or commenting on what they had all just seen… were still seeing. None of the rest of them mattered. They were all extras. In this moment though, Deku mattered. The thought disturbed and excited him, angered and exhilarated him. He walked forward and placed a palm on the shell again. "Deku. Can you hear me?" He strained to speak, forcing himself to sound normal despite how sore his throat was.  
  
The three lights inside seemed to move, as though turning to shine in his direction. They were arranged in a triangle of sorts, if he imagined each of them at the tips. The one at the top of the triangle was the brightest. He dismissed the idea that they were eyes, but he had the thought fleetingly. Maybe a helmet with a head lamp? Yeah that made sense. "Deku. Answer me. Can you hear me?"  
  
Nothing.  
  
He punched the shell again. "Answer me you fucker! Can you fucking hear me?! Do you remember what I said just now?! Deku! They kidnapped your mom! Do you get that you stupid pissant?! Your mom is a hostage! All Might is a hostage! Hell, Ingenium is dead! Is any of this registering you little shit?!" As his temper flared to life, he punched the shell again hard enough that he hurt himself. "Fuck!" he declared.  
  
The rest of them were aghast at his… percussive method of establishing contact.  
  
The lights inside grew much brighter. They were accompanied by another set of lights that danced and strobed, growing brighter, then dimmer, then brighter again. The lights emerged in irregular bursts, long and short pulses emanating from the center of the shell. The three primary lights endured during this display, but there was no change other than this luminous display. Katsuki despaired. If Deku was in there, he was probably responding just to volume, just to the times that Katsuki was hitting the shell.  
  
He turned and slumped down onto the ground, leaning back against the shell. An uncomfortable silence fell over all of them. The lights, while novel, had proven meaningless. Katsuki was dimly aware that at least one of the young women nearby was crying. To him, that didn't matter.  
  
All that mattered was that Deku was gone. Bakugou Katsuki had failed. And he felt like shit.  
  
He leaned his head back against the fucking shell. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either. "Deku… I wish you would just say something… even if it's muffled… just… say something." He spoke up despairingly, turning his head as though to speak over his shoulder.  
  
Lights continued to flicker, over and over again behind him. The lights were getting brighter as well. He turned on his ass to really look at this thing, and immediately had to shield his eyes. The others were backing away from instinct, but Katsuki remained seated as light flooded from within the shell. A corona of green light washed over him as he sat there, immediately gaining his full attention. The light was warm, like sunlight at high noon. The corona spread outward, engulfing meter after meter of the streetscape. Within the corona, everything was flooded with soft green light, as though the light caused everything inside the corona to have its own glow.  
  
The lights within the shell continued to grow more and more intense, the irregularity more difficult to look at even as the original triangle of lights became bright beacons. Katsuki stood and gawked in amazement at the display, at his own skin glowing, at everything being illuminated around him, at the sudden warmth that wrapped around him. The corona continued to stretch outward, encompassing an area at least ten meters on all sides of the shell, creating a dome of light with all of them inside.  
  
Mount Lady had shrunk down to her normal size and was like the rest of them in awe of the massive display of light. Although centered on the shell, there was no clear mechanism for how the light was projected. Further, the heroes all were awed by how the light seemed both warm and tangible. Although the light was visible from outside the corona, the field of light within the corona seemed dense, as though the air itself was thick with light.  
  
Then the light took on new dimensions, as the light projected out towards the base of the corona grew thicker, brighter, denser. Then the brightness diminished until actual shapes and images were discernable. They were all standing on what appeared to be the floor of a desert or perhaps a sandy beach. Winds moved through, sweeping at small sloping dunes at their feet. Pillars of salt emerged from the desert floor only to erode in the wind and be added to the sands, emerging and falling apart in a continuous cycle.  
  
It was Momo that first spoke up… "It's like… some kind of hologram…" she looked about. "But does the image mean anything?" She asked.  
  
Mount Lady looked around, walking and examining the illusion. Her feet moved through the light-projected sands as though they weren't there, so there was no solid mass to speak of. If felt more like moving through something thicker than air but thinner than water and was warm enough to feel even through her clothes. But something was bothering her, something only she was able to notice. "It's scaled down."  
  
Momo turned to the older woman and tilted her head. "Scaled down? What do you mean?"  
  
Mount Lady knelt next to one of the diminutive dunes and pointed out her observation to everyone else. "Some of these dunes have human footprints, and they are all tiny. From how small the prints are, this image is projected from a perspective far larger than what I'm capable of in my giant form. The only reason I caught it is that I'm used to looking down for tiny clues from above like this."  
  
"Hey! Deku! What the fuck is up with the sandy projection! If you can make a light show in there use it to do something useful! Use words you fucking dumbass!" Katsuki, as impressed as he was by the display of lights, saw it all as useless when what they needed was for fucking Deku to get off his ass and get out of that shell. Why couldn't he just act like a fucking rescue-ee.  
  
"He can't." Gang Orca interjected. "I'm not sure if you understood earlier, but your friend in there is completely liquified. If that shell he's trapped in cracked open right now, he'd run across the street like an egg."  
  
Mina wiped tears from her eyes as she perked up. This entire day had been an emotional roller coaster for her. The shock that they all arrived here for nothing was replaced by the awe at this amazing display of light. Now though there was a puzzle to solve, and she wasn't going to let herself sit the discussion out. "That means he has no vocal chords… so he can't talk! "  
  
Once again, the lights inside the shell sputtered and strobed, lighting off and on at irregular intervals. "But clearly he can hear us…" Ochako observed, stepping towards the light, stepping out of her father's reach. "How can that be possible?  
  
Momo seemed to light up, not from the external display around her but from the brilliance of her own mind. Inspiration had struck. "He's not just liquified… he's turned into an undifferentiated cell mass! Every cell in his body is both a nerve cell and a stem cell! It's a complete reengineering of how multicellular organisms grow, like a strange composition of gestation and metamorphosis as we know it. If he can hear us, that means that every cell is able to sense and able to think! He's…"  
  
Her own thought process haunted her suddenly. "He's turned into a gigantic brain… a supercomputer…"  
  
Katsuki wasn't buying it. "Huh? You. Ginza Girl. You're not making any sense." He said, nicknaming her on the spot for her choice of expensive clothing. "Deku wouldn't turn into a giant brain. He's not exactly the top of our class."  
  
Momo was about to say something as a retort back when she was cut off.  
  
"Everyone. Shut up." Eraserhead said flatly. He was paying attention to something in his comms system. The other heroes followed suit but were not getting anything. "Switch your earpieces one channel higher. The signal is better." He practically muttered the words at them as he tried to focus in on what was being said to him.  
  
Katsuki couldn't help it. He held it breath in anticipation. The others, deputized and regular civilian alike, hushed to complete silence as the heroes listened with complete attention to whatever news was coming in.  
  
Midnight and Mount Lady both suddenly laughed, not at something funny. It was an automatic release on tension. "Yes!" Mount Lady shouted. "Fucking yes!"  
  
Even Eraserhead's smile seemed infectious. The way he glanced over at the shell while his smile grew made Katsuki and the other deputies start to hope. "This kid…" he spoke barely above a whisper.  
  
"What's going on? Someone, tell me something!" Katsuki demanded.  
  
The blonde turned as he felt Gang Orca's hand rest on his shoulder. The larger man was smiling at him as he offered up his own earpiece to his deputy. "Kid. You're going to want to hear this for yourself. Trust me, it's better straight from the source."

  


{}

Like most others in Japan, Hatsume Mei was watching the news. The fact that she was watching from the comfort of her garage while she was working on an invention was the only thing that was remarkable. Inventing wasn't new to her. Allowing herself to be distracted during her work by the television, however, was. As disconnected as she could be from interpersonal relationships, she knew hours ago that what was transpiring in Musutafu was probably the biggest news story of the decade if not the century.  
  
Hostile aliens. The thought alone was absolutely, completely, maddeningly frightening. News anchors from around the world offered their own useless commentary, their own spin on the story, but the facts were amazingly simple. Earth, or more specifically Musutafu, was under attack. The aliens had kidnapped a single Quirless youth and were experimenting on him inside a metallic construct. Everyone else called it a shell but Mei saw it as something completely different. It was clearly some form of mobile laboratory.  
  
She was shocked just like everyone else when All Might turned himself over as a hostage. It was about as shocking as Ingenium's death earlier. Neither of those two events though caused her to stop her work. After all, her next invention may be needed in the war to repel the aliens.  
  
War. Not a euphemism regarding villains or lesser criminals. Actual war. The thought was harrowing, but what else could this attack be described as?  
  
A green glow from her television jolted her attention, tearing it away from her work bench. The laboratory-shell was out in the open on the street, and light was being emitted from the inside. The pulsing light came in long and short pulses. It puzzled her. Something about it seemed off.  
  
"It's not random… it's not random!" she shouted to no one. She was the only one home.  
  
She stopped toying with the objects on her workbench and propelled herself across the floor in her wheeled chair, stopping herself at her computer. She pulled up footage of the current news reel and played the same segment back again. Then again. She still couldn't figure it out. Then she slowed the footage down.  
  
Long and short pulses. There were only two pulse lengths. She tested to ensure there wasn't a third pulse length, and was satisfied to disprove the null hypothesis, or rather, to prove that there were only two pulse lengths… "Binary! It's a signal in binary!" she shouted again.  
  
She switched to her preferred binary programming interface and input the ones and zeroes… and got nonsense as a result. She reversed it… nonsense again. She switched programming languages over and over again, but each time she came up with nothing but garbled text. "But it's binary! And it repeats! It has to mean something!" she lamented.  
  
Frustrated, she pulled up the online biographic piece about the kidnapped young man. After admitting that he was kinda cute, she moved on to the meat of her search: his hobbies and interests. There had to be a clue here into this code!  
  
It was so obvious that she felt like an idiot once she realized what she was up against. He was a nerd for heroes, but not just heroes! Apparently, he excelled in hero-history courses… history! Yes! He was using an old code!  
  
"Morse! He's using Morse! It has to be!" she cackled as she pulled up a free Morse translator program online. It was crude, but she could make something elegant later. Speed was mandatory. She ran the binary signal through, or rather dots and dashes…  
  
"Success!" she shouted, standing in victory. Her chair clattered onto the floor, but that didn't matter. The text was translating into…  
  
English? Fine. English! She was terrible at that language, but she could pull up an English to Japanese dictionary as well. She did wonder however why the code would make sense only in English when the source was a young Japanese male.  
  
Finally, the text made tangible legible sense to her! "I can hear you. Stop. Please hold on. Stop. Yes, I can hear you. Stop. I am coming. Stop." She grew more and more excited as she continued to read.  
  
She gasped with excitement. It was like making a new baby, a new discovery, an invention! "I am coming to save you all. Stop! I will make this right! Stop! Tell my mother that I am coming to save her! Stop! Yes, I can hear you! Stop!"  
  
She was shaking with excitement. More and more text continued to appear. The program was running perfectly, and was capturing the dots and dashes, translating them into English, then into Japanese… only now it was happening in real time! Communication had finally been established!  
  
Wait. What was she supposed to do next? Oh yes! Call someone! Who? Oh! The Support Corps! What was their number? She looked it up… of course! Emergency services!  
  
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed for an emergency. As it picked up she barely gave the operator time to breathe. "Hello operator! Please patch me through to the Support Corps staff handling the Musutafu attack! I have a message from Midoriya Izuku!"  
  
The operator didn't seem impressed. "Izuku. He's the guy trapped by the aliens in Musutafu. He's communicating using a Morse light flare signal. Patch me through, sir. This is probably the biggest emergency in Japan right now, so no this isn't a waste of emergency services. Yes, I'll wait."  
  
She tapped her foot, not from annoyance but excitement. She was about to blow everyone's minds. She eyed her screen as more and more lines of text scrolled past her. "Don't worry, Izuku. You and I have never met, but I'll make sure you get your say!"  
  
While Mei was waiting for Support to pick up the line, she decided to cobble together a text to voice translator. She hoped it would be a good approximation for his voice, which she had never heard in her life. Oh well.  
  
"Oh! Hello, Support Corps? Yes! My name is Hatsume Mei, and I have cracked Midoriya Izuku's code. What code? The one he's been transmitting ever since Mount Lady put him down… the light show! I…" she grew frustrated that the man on the other end of the line seemed to feel this was a waste of time.  
  
"Look. The guy trapped inside the shell is transmitting pulses of light even as we speak. It's in Morse, and it translates into English. I have a program running right now that is fulfilling those steps and is also translating it again using text to voice. Do you want my help or not?" she spoke with more venom and authority than she had ever injected into a conversation before. She didn't like it, but it felt necessary.  
  
She couldn't help but smirk when she heard the man's reply. "Good. Now, help me figure out how to patch his answers to the heroes on site that are trying to communicate with him."

  



	13. The First Heresy: Divided Chakra Shintai

{}

He did not remember the content of his dreams, just the fleeting sensation that it was an important vision worthy enough to remember. It felt less like a cobbled revision of his own mind and more like a coherent memory, yet he could no longer recall a single detail of it.  
  
Izuku awoke, surrounded by cold sand on all sides. Overhead, he barely could make out the whispering of passing winds. The sound was faint this far down, but it was enough to tell him that it was finally safe to rise towards the surface. This, however, was not the sound that woke him.  
  
Harsh, wretched waves of sound poured through the sands. They rattled him, but disconcertingly when Izuku should have felt the sounds in his heart and bones, the feeling was decidedly soft and… squishy. Here he was, surrounded by sand on all sides, yet now it seemed almost like he was in a vat of lukewarm oil. The tactile immersion felt disgusting.  
  
He awkwardly wriggled, climbing his way out of the sandy depths. Izuku had no idea how long he had been down here and hecould barely surmise how he was still alive. Likely, he had slowed down his own heart and lungs with Cecelyne's powerful knack for survival.  
  
These thoughts were interrupted when a strangely familiar voice invaded his senses.  
  
"Fuck it Deku! I want to help you! But I can't! We can't save you! You have to get yourself out of there! You have to get out here! Deku!" Was Bakugou Katsuki up there on the surface? Izuku climbed faster, struggling against the pervasive sands. The sensation felt vaguely like swimming in warm water, which made no sense to him.  
  
Izuku stopped cold when he heard Katsuki cry out again. Despite wondering just who Deku was at first, it didn't take Izuku long to reason out who it was Katsuki was talking to. "They have your mom, Deku! They have All Might! Do you hear me?! Do you, Deku?! They have your mom!" The cry came out not from above, but to his side. He turned, urgently focusing on Katsuki's words.  
  
"Mom. All Might. The Primordials have them? What? What?!" Izuku thought. Panic consumed his mind. He thrashed, losing control of himself as he turned towards the voice of his… colleague? The thought was too confusing to do anything productive, so he discarded it. There were far more important matters than to decide what Bakugou meant to him, if anything.  
  
There was nothing as important as knowing his mother was in danger. Nothing.  
  
Izuku reached forward, flailing uselessly in warm liquid murk. Liquid? He was in sand, cold dead sand under the dunes of Cecelyne. This new sensation of warm immersion made no sense. He dared to open his eyes and was engulfed in darkness. He didn't feel the itchy burning sensation of sand invading his eyes.  
  
He wished he could see, that there was just a tiny bit light…  
  
Suddenly, there was. His own eyes provided all the illumination that he needed. Izuku could feel the hot fire burning from behind his retinas, but the heat didn't feel uncomfortable at all. It was startling though to discover this new ability. He didn't recall learning it from either Cecelyne or from Adorjan.  
  
"You didn't." a deep voice emanated from somewhere nearby. "It's the power inherent to your own anima, the ventilation system, if you will, of your new Exaltation. What's curious though is how you manifested that power during your metamorphosis… and without any instruction." The voice sounded curious, yet almost paternal.  
  
Izuku cast his gaze around himself, adding even more illumination. Panic consumed him as he was surrounded by soupy water in a sealed metal tank of some kind. He instinctively gasped for air, knowing that it was the wrong thing to do… but felt nothing. He reached forward, as though to claw at the side of his metallic confinement, but there was no arm to move with his command.  
  
"You have no body, at least not here." The voice commented. "It is quite remarkable that you're awake enough to experience this. I've never heard of such a case before, not a single one among all of the Princes so far."  
  
The complement meant nothing to Izuku, who was still panicking. He thrashed about uselessly, expecting some binding, some resistance, or even some form of numbness. This sensation of dissolute absence was unlike anything he had ever experienced or had ever been described to him. Pain would have been better. In a blind fit of impotent fear, he willed more illumination into existence.  
  
His forehead lit up with harsh green light, flooding the tank with visible green clarity. The paradox was palpable, that Izuku could emit light from his eyes and his forehead, yet he had no body, no eyes, no forehead. The thought made him want to laugh with madness and anger, but he had no voice to convey his thoughts or feelings. He only had light.  
  
Izuku poured more power into the light he was producing, drawing it from the deep well of essence inside his soul. The twisted brass trapping him grew partially translucent as it gave way to the intensity of Izuku's clarifying will. He could barely make out Katsuki's face and turned to face him. Even occluded by the metal wall between them, Izuku could make out the despair and rage that warped Katsuki's features, and the mask that covered the blonde's nose and mouth. He wished that Katsuki would tell him more about what was happening out there…  
  
Out there? But Izuku was in Cecelyne's desert…  
  
"He can hear me!" he heard Katsuki shout, triumph clearly audible in his voice. Who else was out there? Where was all this happening? What had happened to his mom and to All Might?  
  
And who was the voice inside this metal water tank with him?  
  
"I am the Prince that was, the previous bearer of the Exaltation that even now is bonding to your soul. I am the echo within that shard, the immortal remains of a life well lived, I might add." There was a hint of amused laughter, of depth and wisdom in that voice. "This however is no time for introductions, especially dangerous ones…"  
  
"Dangerous?!" Izuku was alarmed but also angry at the vague hints the new voice dropped. After everything Izuku had been through, an introduction hardly seemed dangerous. It sounded like this new companion in his head was making up excuses. It wasn't wisdom this voice contained, just condescending self-importance.  
  
"The Primordials will continue to prod and test you. They are relying on you being ignorant. If I reveal too much too soon, they may decide to kill you and cut their losses." The voice paused briefly, considering how to phrase something delicately. "It would be better for your survival to ignore your shouting companion over there and continue your metamorphosis… to pretend that this wasn't happening."  
  
"Oh, fuck off!" Izuku was not one to casually curse, but the day he had had warranted it. He had been suicidal, then seduced, then whisked to another planet, then drowned, and finally chased by an insane wind and forced to kill his own clones. He had had enough bullshit for one day. "Adorjan already tried to kill me, or did you not know that?"  
  
Their conversation was interrupted by a loud clang as Katsuki struck out against the metal separating them. "Answer me you fucker! Can you fucking hear me?! Do you remember what I said just now?! Deku! They kidnapped your mom! Do you get that you stupid pissant?! Your mom is a hostage! All Might is a hostage! Hell, Ingenium is dead! Is any of this registering, you little shit?!" The string of declarations was punctuated with another blow struck on the metallic walls, ringing clearly through the liquid inside. "Fuck!" the blonde declared.  
  
Desperately, Izuku thrashed within his confines, only to splash against the metal interior. Light erupted from within him haphazardly, his frustration made manifest in a sputtering display of green light.  
  
"You're wasting essence like that. Nothing you do will let anyone out there understand you. You have no voice, no body. You can't write. You can't shout. You can't even clap your hands… the only thing you have is the light of your anima." Once again, the condescending voice droned on.  
  
Light. His light made it through the shell, even rendering it translucent in places where the light was the most intense. He called on the powers of Cecelyne, forcing his mind to move rapidly around the problem. "What… are you doing?" the voice was both concerned and bewildered as Izuku flared his anima, strobing it with microbursts of essence.  
  
"I'm releasing a short burst of prime numbers using Morse code." Izuku stated flatly. He concentrated harder on the display of light, putting more essence into it.  
  
"I see… but why use prime numbers?" the voice asked.  
  
"To let whoever is out there know that it's not a random display of light, and to expect me to say something else." Izuku grew irritated with each passing moment stuck with this thing talking to him.  
  
"You're trying to establish communication. Great. Well, as long as you're committed to this course of action, are you planning on saying anything you don't want the demons to know?" it sounded almost like it wanted to be helpful.  
  
Unfortunately, it had said the wrong thing, causing new waves of panic within Izuku. "Demons?! What the fuck? Are you saying these things that have my mom… the things I've been talking to in the desert… are all demons?" That would also mean that the woman that had faith in Izuku and set him on this journey was a demon too. Izuku didn't want to think about that.  
  
"No." the voice sounded annoyed. "The things in the desert? Those were Yozis, two of them. These things out here? These are demons. The demons work for the Yozis. They always send three demons of the Second Circle and a two cohorts worth of First Circle demons to each of them… to guard a new Prince and escort him back to Malfeas."  
  
Three commanders? Two cohorts? "How many is that? How many is in a cohort?" Izuku demanded answers.  
  
The voice clipped the answer at him. "One hundred demons per cohort. Three fifths of a Legion in total."  
  
So many… why so many?!  
  
Reading his thoughts, the voice volunteered. "To protect you from other Exalted, the forces of Creation… or to put you down if you prove to be an unsuitable host for the Exaltation."  
  
Izuku released a new set of signals off in Morse, a simple message saying that he could hear them. "These demons… the one I met spoke to me in my native Japanese. Can they speak any language? Can they crack human codes?"  
  
There was the mental feeling of a shrug. "Some demons have a knack for languages. Most don't. If they were selected to come to your world though they would have been taught to speak to you in your native tongue. Why?"  
  
In my native language, Izuku thought to himself. There was a good chance that these things wouldn't know any other languages. He wasn't the best student of English, but it might be his only shot. "I can hear you. Stop. Please hold on. Stop. Yes, I can hear you. Stop. I am coming. Stop." He droned the words out slowly in English as he released the correct bursts of essence fueled light.  
  
Everything felt hot, like he was in the center of a furnace. The warmth was comfortable, though. Izuku could see the light grow and stretch around him, first from his forehead and then from every cell in his liquified body. The light rendered the entire shell opaque to his senses. His range of vision dramatically increased, and he could make out not only Bakugou Katsuki but also nine others. There were three professional heroes, three young women, and three middle aged men. "What is going on?" he mused to himself as he took in the vision.  
  
"Your anima has flared fully to life after it's been infused with essence. If no one noticed your communication attempt before there is no way they'll miss this." The voice was accompanied by a general suggestion, a prodding to look around. It was almost as if Izuku could see someone stand next to him and watch them gesture at the sights.  
  
Those thoughts were dismissed by the sights themselves. "I'm making all of this? This is my power's doing?" he asked, taking in the great corona of green fire, the hologram of the desert, and the wind currents moving within the barrier of his own corona.  
  
"This is you. This is your soul on display… or at least part of it." The voice commented.  
  
"Hey! Deku! What the fuck is up with the sandy projection! If you can make a light show in there use it to do something useful! Use words you fucking dumbass!" Katsuki interjected himself into Izuku's private conversation with…  
  
Izuku chose to ignore Katsuki for a moment and continued his display of coded light signals. There were more pressing issues than Katsuki's temper. "Who are you? If you want me to take one more thing you say seriously, you'd better give me something to latch onto. A name. A title. Something." Izuku's patience had worn thin. He had to get as much information about the current situation as possible so he could figure out how to save his mom.  
  
"Call me Takeru." The voice said.  
  
Izuku knew this was not the voice's actual name. It was the name of a legendary Japanese prince from a bygone era, a name that had been recycled many times in the history of Japan. He strongly doubted that this disembodied voice belonged to a Japanese man, especially since he had already claimed to be a prior Prince… ah, there it was, a play on words. At least the voice understood the Japanese love of word games. By naming himself after a prior and legendary prince of Japan, he basically had given a name that meant only that he was a Prince prior to Izuku. "Fine, Takeru. It's good to meet you. I assume I'll get to know your real name when I'm safely out of this…"  
  
"Chrysalis. Specifically, this is a Chrysalis Grotesque. Delightful name, isn't it?" There was honey in Takeru's words, but not enough to hide the sarcasm. He pointedly didn't answer Izuku's question.  
  
If Izuku could roll his eyes, he probably would. Instead he focused on translating his thoughts to English and then to Morse. "I am coming to save you all. Stop. I will make this right. Stop. Tell my mother that I am coming to save her. Stop. Yes, I can hear you. Stop."  
  
"Those are some very lofty promises for someone without a physical body, Izuku." Takeru pointed out. "The metamorphosis takes five day's per Creation's calendar… 125 hours, which thankfully are the same hours as in your world."  
  
"What?! No! My mother is a hostage! I need to get out there! Now! I have the powers of Adorjan and Cecelyne! I can save her!" Izuku shouted into the chasms of his own mind. Emotional pressure built within him.  
  
"No, Izuku." Takeru spoke calmly, soothingly. "You have only a tiny fraction of their power, just enough power to hold your own in a fight against their foot soldiers, but not against those kinds of numbers, most certainly not against the three demons leading the rest. And even if you burst out there and raise hell, you'll simply be branded a failure of a Prince. Even if you avoid death or capture, your world will be scheduled for conquest by another older Prince with more power than you have. That other Prince will kill you, and then enslave your world, likely killing everyone you know in the process. Also, before you say you'll beat the other Prince, be aware that they won't show up alone to kill you. They'll bring entire legions of demons, and probably an allied Prince or three."  
  
"There has to be something I can do! Something this power is good for!" Izuku demanded. He refused to give into despair. It didn't matter if the odds were stacked against him. He still had to try.  
  
For his mother, he had to try. Maybe for All Might too, but mostly… it was for his mom.  
  
The voice of Takeru spoke grimly, urgently. "Listen to me carefully, Izuku. There might be a way to help them… to save them. Every single step of this plan is risky enough that you might die in the process… and through it all the Yozis will continue to prod you and test you. To them you will always be a weapon, a thing to control. They will ply you with drugs, sex, and any other meaningless pleasure they can… and threaten you and everyone you love, like your mother. Pleasure and fear are their preferred goads of control… but you must appear to indulge, to give in. If they believe that you are going rogue, they will kill you, and not in the sportsmanlike way that Adorjan toyed with you. If they want you dead, you are too weak right now to stop them. They are too powerful, and their armies are inexhaustibly infinite. You must be subversive; you must advance their plan and foil their efforts from within. You must bow and make deals and take as much power from the Yozis as they will offer, then grasp for even more. This is the way it must be for the rest of your life. Do you understand? Do you understand that there can be no final victory, only battles that delay and frustrate them? Because if you decide to go out in a blaze of glory and die some heroic death or fight this battle in a stupid way while telling yourself that your optimism will somehow win the day, then I won't help you. I'll burrow my consciousness deeper into this Exaltation and wait for another Prince to be chosen, a smarter one. Now: do you understand?"  
  
Izuku was shocked by this complete reversal. This snarky voice may be an ally. Some of Takeru's message didn't sit well with Izuku, of course. Could he spend the rest of his life as a saboteur, working to aid an enemy that stood against everything he believed in while also working to frustrate their plans? Could he be a villain when needed, and a hero when he could get away with it? The thought disgusted him… but if he didn't agree to this, he had no way of knowing what would happen to his mother. "I have just one question… well, two actually: why are you offering to help me, and why should I trust you?"  
  
"Ah, yes. The truth, as briefly as I can put it…" the voice paused. Izuku could feel in the back of his mind a storm of raw emotion. Regret and self-hatred were in the eye of that storm, feelings Izuku understood or at least thought he did. "I was a Green Sun Prince, as you know… and in nearly two centuries of service I committed many atrocities in the name of the Yozis, things I do not care to repeat or remember. I did it all without question, without compromise, and without flinching… and in the end, I found out that it was all for a great lie. You see… they didn't just tempt me with sex or goad me with fear… they altered my memories until I could be used as a weapon against everything I should have loved. That is why I will help you: my revenge." The bitterness in Takeru's voice grated at the back of Izuku's mind. The feelings were too raw and too real, and Izuku knew he could believe this man… this former villain.  
  
Izuku was afraid to ask, but he had to know. "How did you die, Takeru?"  
  
Sadness. Loss. Emotions overwhelmed Izuku's mind. "When I turned on my masters… I believed that I could rally the other Princes to rebel. Instead I was murdered by my closest friends and lovers, people I thought I could trust. By now my territory, artifacts, servants… all of it has been doled out, spoils of war split between valiant defenders of the cause." His words were like bile, yet it was not anger that supplied that sensation, but a raw visceral pain from love's betrayal.  
  
Izuku now understood far better what he was up against. He may be empowered, but he was up against an enemy that had other such soldiers with more power than he possessed, and demons beyond counting at their beck and call. One misstep, one show of disloyalty at the wrong time, and it would all be over: not just for him, but for everyone and everything in Izuku's world. He couldn't allow that. He had to fight back, as intelligently and as shrewdly as possible. He mustered up his willpower, steeling himself for actions that he knew would violate everything he believed in.  
  
"I understand, Takeru. I am ready. Instruct me: how do I… how do we fight back?" Izuku asked.  
  
If it was possible, Izuku would have liked to see the smile on Takeru's face. "First: we establish some basic facts. Then: we commit Heresy."

  


{}

The voice was hollow, a computerized rendition of a stereotypical Japanese youth. "I am coming to save you all. Stop. I will make this right. Stop. Tell my mother that I am coming to save her. Stop. Yes, I can hear you. Stop."  
  
Katsuki didn't want to admit to himself how much Deku's mechanical words meant to him. "He's… talking to us." He breathed out the words, hardly believing it.  
  
"It turns out your friend knows Morse code." Eraserhead mused out loud.  
  
"Yo. Deku! What's up with you using English?! And since when do you know Morse code?" Katsuki shouted.  
  
The lights shifted inside the shell, and with only a minimal delay the computerized voice spoke again, transmitting from a garage halfway across Japan. "They might be watching. Stop. Listening. Stop. If they believe we are actively communicating. Stop. They will kill you. Stop. Now. Stop. I have questions for the heroes. Stop."  
  
Eraserhead stepped forward. Behind him, Gang Orca gestured for his earpiece to be returned. Katsuki begrudgingly relented. "This is Eraserhead. I'll answer what I can. Our time is limited though. There's a ceasefire, and the enemy will come here soon to reclaim your shell, and you with it." He normally wouldn't talk so bluntly to a hostage like this, but he wasn't sure how clearly or concisely he needed to communicate just to be heard.  
  
The lights seemed to dance inside as the three primary lights turned to focus on him. "Good to meet you Eraserhead. Stop. Midoriya Izuku. Stop. Do you know the names of the enemy commanders? Stop." The computer said, translating the words without inflection.  
  
"Sondok." Eraserhead blurted. "Anyone here remember the name of the other one? Anyone in Support got it?" he asked around him and over the comm system. Momo supplied the answer to him before the Support Corps did, and he repeated. "And Mahbagodeth."  
  
There was a pause, darkness. Then once again the lights flared up. "Sondok is an honorable opponent. Stop. She will seek worthy opponents to duel. Stop. Beware her hound and her Crown. Stop. The hound shares her senses and can swap locations with her. Stop. The crown allows her to summon explosions at will. Stop. Mahbagodeth has no moral compass. Stop. He will turn humans into ink and paper for his scroll collection. Stop. Beware his long-range attacks. Stop. His sorcery is not to be underestimated. Stop. He is a coward. Stop."  
  
Eraserhead marveled at this information. How could this kid know so much while trapped inside this shell? Midnight and Gang Orca immediately got onto their comm systems and relayed the information, trying to see if it was possible for someone to retrieve the crown from the apartment rooftop.  
  
"You only identified two of them. Stop." The droning voice said. "Do you know the name of or can you describe the third? Stop. Describe the breed of each type of soldier. Stop."  
  
Cold sweat clung to Eraserhead's brow and neck. A third? "We've only encountered two commanders, and two breeds of soldier: wasps and large apes."  
  
"Be warned. Stop. A third commander and more soldiers remain incorporeal. Stop. They always come in threes. Stop. You described Blood Apes and Paper Wasps. Stop. Blood Apes are the rank and file soldiers of Malfeas. Stop. They are brutal and organized. Stop. They hate humans with a passion and will seek to kill or devour humans whenever their orders will allow. Stop. Paper Wasps work exclusively for Mahbagodeth. Stop. They are a smaller specialized breed of wasp that turn flesh into vellum. Stop. Beware their sting. Stop. There is no cure. Stop." The monotone machine droned on. "What are the terms of the ceasefire? Stop. How did Ingenium die? Stop."  
  
After explaining what he knew of Ingenium's demise, Eraserhead went into some detail about Inko's capture and All Might's deal, about trading himself for the other hostages, but his answer did not seem to satisfy Izuku. His reply was scathing. "There is no reason they would make that deal with All Might. Stop. They don't see you as enemies. Stop. To them you are a resource or prey. Stop. Is there anything you are missing or that you skipped? Stop."  
  
Midnight stepped forward. "Your mother made a deal, a prayer, to someone called Celine?"  
  
"Cecelyne. Stop. That explains everything that I need to know. Stop." The shell seemed to give in to darkness as the lights inside died down.  
  
"What are you all doing to the Shining Prince?" a silken voice whispered to all of them. The heroes and their deputies turned this way and that to look for the source, and eventually found her across the street outside the glaring glow of the corona that surrounded them.  
  
She stepped out of the shadows as though a black silk curtain parted way for her to walk onto a stage. By outward appearance she was a tall and beautiful Japanese woman in a traditional kimono from an earlier era. The green and gold fabric swished across the ground as she moved yet somehow remained immaculately clean. Her hair was long, dark, and straight. Her makeup rendered her skin pale, with a small dash of red paint to make her mouth seem smaller than it was, while her eyebrows were painted higher than would be natural. If not for her startlingly blue eyes, she would fit in wonderfully at a traditional fair that showcased historical Japanese attire. Gesturing at them with her outstretched fan, she smiled, pleasantly revealing her black painted teeth.  
  
Izuku's lights within the Chrysalis flared and flickered as the main three turned to regard the newcomer. The two lights at the bottom of the triangle seemed to snuff out. "She is Mara. Stop. Dangerous. Stop. Stay within the corona. Stop. She will kill you. Stop." The message was not comforting and felt rushed. The lights stopped flickering. The automated voice went silent.

  


{}

Once more Izuku clawed his way up and out of the sands. Again, he was greeted with the blistering heat of the Green Sun. Blessedly though, he could hear the breeze. The Silent Wind, Adorjan, was not here. He was alone, unless you counted the vastness of Cecelyne as companionship. Or the voice in his head.  
  
"You're sure she's not listening, not watching?" Izuku asked Takeru, thinking the question rather than speaking it.  
  
"Her attention is divided among too many facets of reality at once. Besides, we're not talking out loud. Now, are you ready?" Takeru asked with unstated gravity behind his words.  
  
Izuku paused. "No… you're sure there isn't another way to do this?" he was rightfully afraid.  
  
Takeru prodded his mind. "I am completely sure. Now, just as we discussed, manifest the blade-form of Freedom Lets Go."  
  
Focusing his essence, dipping into the pool of power within himself, Izuku created the same golden knife that Adorjan had once handed him. As he held it, he could feel the chains that connected to his own heart, felt them thrum and sing as they dragged buried weights in the desert beneath him. He paused with trepidation, then activated Hellskry Chakra. The blade glowed in his hand, it's light piercing his third eye. The chains, now visible, shone with their own golden light.  
  
"This plan sucks." Izuku muttered out loud, while also focusing the words in his mind at Takeru, the Prince-that-was.  
  
"It's either this or simply continue on your way without offering any help at all. Now, do you want to buy them time or not? It makes no difference to me. My main goal is to ensure you survive long enough to be a thorn in the Yozis' collective backsides. A few dead friends and relatives might actually motivate you to get off your ass and execute a plan, hmmm?" the snark had returned in full, oozing out of every word.  
  
"And you've done this before?" Izuku asked, skipping past the barbs and insults he wanted to retort with.  
  
"Well… not exactly, no." Takeru said without apology. "I used this trick for crafting and for meditation… maybe some combat here and there… and other pet projects, but never for interacting with the Chrysalis like this."  
  
"What?! So, this is all just… a fucking guess? You're just hoping this crazy idea works?!" Izuku was beyond angry.  
  
"It's a workable theory, but please recall you're the first Prince to ever be awake during their time in the Chrysalis. We're in uncharted territory as it is. Now… are you going to do it or not?" Takeru prompted.  
  
Izuku held the blade with both hands, pointing it toward himself. This sucked. This entire plan was fucked up. "But you did do this part, right? The stabbing part? And you were fine afterward?"  
  
Tekeru spoke sagely to him, with no small amount of condescension in his tone. "Yes. As I said, this is just an unusual use for the Charm, but this is how you activate it. Now, focus on the image as we discussed. Think of 'it' like a tree, one that you must cut vertically. Alright, better get to it. The demons aren't going to wait for you before slaughtering those heroes."  
  
Izuku focused hard on the blade and opened the eye of his chakra wide. This was going to hurt. This felt like he was about to kill himself… he calmed himself, steadied his breathing. If he could find the courage to jump off a rooftop, then he could do this. He could, he told himself.  
  
His first attempt was a false start. The knife didn't even touch his skin.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Takeru spouted at him.  
  
"This is hard!" Izuku shouted.  
  
"No." Takeru spoke to him, anger evident in his voice. "This is necessary. This is to save the lives of anyone and everyone you care about. This is a set of instructions given to you by your predecessor, who had to invent this on his own. Now, successor: do it. And don't ever back off at the last second like you just did ever again. Remember that you are Exalted and nothing is impossible. And remember to focus your essence properly."  
  
I am Exalted, Izuku told himself. Nothing is impossible.  
  
The knife was pointed directly at his head, directly at his own open third eye. He could see it in excruciating detail.  
  
"I am Exalted. Nothing is impossible." He spoke the words out loud.  
  
He thought about his mother. She needed him. This was the only way to reach her in time.  
  
"Divided Chakra Shintai" he whispered the words aloud, imagining the tree that connected every chakra in his body. Then he shouted, angrily, focusing his rage so that he could overcome his own survival instincts.  
  
Izuku stabbed himself deep within his forehead. The essence knife bisected his chakra cleanly, leaving his physical body mostly intact, though there was a slight trickle of blood. Already he felt strange, like he was cross-eyed and nauseous. This feeling was somehow worse. It was also painful. "Fuck!" he shouted. "That fucking hurts!"  
  
"Good." Takeru said, encouraging him. "Now you just have to keep cutting vertically down the rest of the tree.  
  
Izuku wanted to stop. He wanted to give up. He didn't though. He pressed onward, forcing the blade down through the chakras in his throat and then his chest. With each one he felt worse and worse, and his mind felt less and less focused. "Just a bit more…" he uttered, blood tricking from his mouth. "Fuck…" he exhaled. He didn't even understand how he was still alive after jamming a knife into his own brain, much less cutting through his face and neck… but he did know that this hurt worse than anything he had ever done… but it still wasn't as bad as Adorjan tearing his skin and muscles off.  
  
"I can do this…" he said, spitting blood onto the sand. "I am Exalted… nothing is impossible…"  
  
Whatever it was that Takeru said next was a blur to him.

  


{}

Gang Orca decided to take point between this newcomer and the remainder of their party and chose to stand just within the barrier of light created by Izuku's corona. To his dismay his young deputy, Katsuki, stood nearby behind him. "We're just curious, is all. The creatures we were fighting all ran away, and then this thing here started lighting up in a huge display. We were wondering how the two were connected. Are you lost, miss? Do you need me to call in transportation for you, to get you to a safe place?"  
  
If needed, Gang Orca would continue to play dumb to her human subterfuge and sacrifice himself to get her away from the rest of the group. He simply hoped that he was good enough at acting that she would believe he was stupid… that the enemy looked down on them enough to believe they were, all of them, utter fools.  
  
She did not take the bait. Her voice rang out smoothly, projecting outward like a songstress would enunciate across a stage. "The terms of the ceasefire are quite clear. We are coming to take possession of the Chrysalis. You 'heroes' will not interfere. Resist and die. Organize a bothersome resistance, and we will also kill All Might. Now… step out of my way, human." As menacing as her words were, they did not match her at all. Her tone was friendly, her posture and expression content if not flirtatiously polite.  
  
Katsuki stared at the woman with rapt fascination. Pieces were clicking into place in his head. "You… you and I… you've spoken to me before, back at the apartment complex!" he announced his revelation with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.  
  
She refocused her attention onto the young blonde, "Ah yes, I remember you. Bakugou, isn't it? Are you enjoying the festivities?" She had the nerve to giggle at him as though she were a naïve flirt.  
  
As he stepped forward, Gang Orca placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Stay inside the light." The older hero ordered his deputy.  
  
That command caused the mysterious woman's face to twitch ever so slightly. "Excuse me, I was talking to young Bakugou." She said. There were daggers encased in honey by her words.  
  
Bakugou stopped just at the edge of the corona and was less than a meter away from her. She was a bit shorter than he was. "I liked blowing up those ape monsters, if that's what you're asking." He couldn't help but smirk while bragging to a good-looking woman like this, even if her clothing was so old fashioned, and her mouth was totally freaky looking.  
  
She smiled sweetly at him before gesturing at the Chrysalis. "I was referring to the culmination of all of your hard work, young Bakugou…" he turned his head to look over his shoulder, wondering what the hell she was talking about. She continued, refocusing his attention as well as of those around them. "You did a wonderful job. If you hadn't broken his spirit so thoroughly, we wouldn't have been able to remake him into such a wonderful Prince."  
  
Ochako gasped in the background, saying nothing. Momo and Mina also pieced the puzzle together, wide eyed in horror. The adults took it all in stoically. They all had wondered what kind of friend would speak the way Bakugou had. His obscene shouting and rapid strikes stretched beyond even the abnormally violent or mocking expressions of male camaraderie.  
  
Katsuki for his part did not enjoy the attention he was getting. "I didn't break shit! Besides, why would you want some Quirkless weakling like Deku? You could have picked someone much stronger to be your fucking Prince… hell, you could have picked me." He tried to turn the whole conversation around.  
  
Her smile seemed disarmingly genuine. "Oh, you poor thing. You don't even understand how powerful the codes built into you are. Your entire world doesn't even understand what a hero is. Instead you're all wrapped up in this larger than life fantasy, but it isn't heroism. It's just a power trip, and nothing more."  
  
She sighed as she shook her head, yet her smile remained. "Heroes don't rise from their own strength, you silly, idiotic boy. They rise after being beat down by a tyrant much stronger than them. And they do it repeatedly, winning victories for others… Prince Izuku was not chosen because of some latent power. Our masters already have all the power they could ever need. He was chosen because of his own heroic drive… and because your world chose to break him, allowing us to rebuild him in our own image. You played your role well and fulfilled the basic programming Cecelyne and the Ebon Dragon instilled into your genes. I must thank you for that."  
  
She had the nerve to smile and bow to him, to thank him for… for bullying Deku. "Oh, fuck off! People get picked on all the time. Weak ass losers get it more than most: so what? Deku didn't break because of the world. He broke because he was weak. You're fucked in the head if you think that makes him somehow useful to you."  
  
Eraserhead didn't know whether to hit this stupid kid or bury his own face in his hands. At least this conversation was buying them time for… for what? More time to live while this light surrounded them? It was clear to him and the other heroes that the moment any of them stepped beyond this corona of emerald light that this new enemy would kill them. He halfway expected her beautiful visage to be an illusion, but he wouldn't be surprised if she could stay in the form of a beautiful woman while decapitating them. It had been just that kind of a day.  
  
The blue-eyed beauty smiled prettily, gazing at Bakugou to the exclusion of the others as she stood at the periphery beyond the luminous barrier. "All too true. It is as Cecelyne has written: the strong shall rule over the weak. Also, as the Ebon Dragon has declared: cruelty is the currency of the powerful. You embody these mandates quite well. I'm sure you'll pass my test and prove yourself stronger than 'Deku' ever was. I'm sure all of you will pass." Glancing around at the rest of them, her smile became a thing of joy, like she was about to share a sweet treat with an adorable child.  
  
"What fucking test?" Bakugou took the bait, sneering. Of course he did, the idiot boy, thought Eraserhead.  
She unfolded her fan, revealing a rustic pattern with a long green dragon coiling through the leaves of a gilded forest. "I don't have time to simulate the years of torment you inflicted upon the Shining Prince, so I'll have to break you in a much more direct way: I'm going to kill your mother while you watch. It'll be so fun!" she giggled.  
  
"You bitch! You're bluffing! You…" the young blond could hardly think straight. His vision became a red haze of unquenching fury.  
  
Bakugou was clearly about to lose it, Gang Orca and Eraserhead could both see it. Before he could charge across the threshold, the larger hero restrained the young man while Eraserhead strode forward, placing himself squarely in front of the kimono wearing woman.  
  
"I'm pretty sure the terms of the ceasefire would prevent you from going through with that threat." Eraserhead stated flatly.  
  
She batted her eyes at him as though he had just said something scandalous. "The terms also say you heroes won't interfere as we reclaim the Chrysalis. As you pry apart the terms of the oath, you tear open loopholes for us to use as well, human. I can see the threads of fate that tie you all to your loved ones elsewhere. Even now, my soldiers are moving to capture them. All of them. They have nothing but free time during this temporary peace, after all, and I want to give them something to play with."  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Eraserhead managed to keep calm even as the hearts and minds of everyone around him dropped into pits of despair, each of them likely worried about whoever they all feared would be captured. For him, he was worried about his students more than anyone else. He feared that she could read minds, so he tried to think about anyone or anything else but those promising heroes-to-be.  
  
She smiled demurely. "It is as my master said: cruelty is the currency of the powerful. I want all of you to feel the bitter irony of your own powerlessness before you die." The jovial inflection of her voice never wavered, never gave in to the acrid hatred her words implied.  
  
Her kimono swished about her feet as she turned. She shifted her posture just slightly; her eyes widened. "Oh! It looks like my soldiers have found the first contestant for our little game! Fortunately, she was close by." Her giggle was infuriating to listen to.  
  
Bakugou feared the worst. His heart threatened to stop. He struggled hard against Gang Orca's grip. "Let me go! Let go!" he repeated, madness consuming him. Then he watched, wide eyed with horror as a set of wasps flew in, carrying the limp form of a woman. The darkness gave way to reveal her face as they neared the corona surrounding the Chrysalis.  
  
Bakugou's body went limp with exhaustion. Adrenaline drained from his emotions, he was practically limp and hollow. He didn't recognize the woman. It wasn't his mother.  
  
"Mom!" Ochako screamed. "No!" she screamed from within her father's tight embrace.  
  
It was Ochako's mother.  
  
The wasps dragged her closer to the corona of light before placing her next to the woman in the green kimono. The newcomer was awake; she looked about with hazy glassed over eyes. Some form of intoxication had clearly befuddled her senses.  
  
The woman in green turned her attention toward Ochako and her father. "Watch carefully, child." She said with the care one would use before explaining something important like how to properly cross the street. "Watch as your mother is killed. It's a sight so few get to appreciate."  
  
Ochako screamed at tears flooded her eyes. Madness consumed her mind as she watched one of those dreadful beasts move its long stinger to the back of her mother's head. "No! Please no!"  
  
Air left her lungs. It was only after a moment of confusion that she understood why. He father had pushed her hard into Midnight's arms, rendering her briefly weightless in order to enhance his own push. She watched with horror as her father launched forward toward the woman in green, toward the giant wasps, towards her mother. Her own momentum, her rough landing on top of Midnight, rendered her helpless.  
  
Time seemed to slow down. Ochako watched as Eraserhead was shoved aside by her father, caught unawares by the attack from behind. There was no one between her father and the woman in green…  
  
Whose smile grew wider with anticipation as Ochako's father charged closer and closer. Ochako knew that this was the outcome the woman wanted, for each of them to charge recklessly at her. Her father probably knew it too. He couldn't just stand there though. No one could, Ochako reasoned.  
  
Scrambling up off Midnight, she tried to join the charge, only to have the older woman pin her to the ground. Ochako didn't know what she screamed out in that moment, or if there were words at all. She watched helplessly as the two most important people in her world were about to die violently.  
  
The corona of light flashed to a greater brightness, suddenly flooding the street with white hot illumination. She heard rather than watched as the Chrysalis seemed to fall over onto its side, if any part of it could be considered its top, and then it rolled, dragged, and scraped along the ground. It all happened so quickly. Thunder clapped around them as a streak of lighting seemed to erupt from behind her out to the coronal edge in front of her, in front of her father. The blast knocked her father and Eraserhead back and off their feet completely, and even sent Gang Orca hurtling backward with Katsuki in tow. Farther from the edge, Ochako and the others were able to stand the shockwave that emerged…  
  
From where he appeared.  
  
As the coronal light around them dimmed back to the bright green display that it was before, all Ochako could see was a tall muscular figure composed of the same green light as the desert sands they all rested on. He dominated her vision, as though her eyes would not follow her own commands for more than a few moments at a time. His back, gluteal, arm, and leg muscles were holographically carved as though by a sculptor. Other than a pair of bracers on his forearms, she didn't see a single scrap of clothing on him. A long cascade of messy green hair descended behind him, obscuring the area between his shoulder blades.  
  
Like the other projections, he was partially see-through. She could make out an alignment of stars, one higher than the next, that climbed up the center of his being from his groin to the top of his head. Even from behind, his forehead glowed with a burning intensity, as did his eyes. It was as if he was a creature made of green fire. That fire ignited the world around him, spreading the corona of emerald light farther out, enveloping the monsters that held onto her mother, embracing her in the warm light as well.  
  
Ochako's mother recoiled from the light's embrace.  
  
Ochako's eyes returned completely to her control. Finally free to understand what happening, Ochako wept as the face of her mother melted away, her form replaced with a dark leathery creature… a vaguely human shaped thing which scrambled away. The wasps let it go and flew away themselves, leaving only the woman in green. The thing that was… no, the thing that once resembled her mother, ran in fear from the light.  
  
Uncaring for just a moment about how it had happened, she was consumed by relief. Her mother wasn't a captive, and her father was safe. Once Midnight let her go, Ochako crawled over to where he still lay on the ground and the two embraced as they cried.  
  
Izuku spared the young woman and the older man to his left a brief glance before turning all his attention to the demon in front of him. She had retreated just enough to remain beyond the new boundary of his projected anima. He could see both her human disguise and the demon herself in her true form. "Mara, how good to see you. It has been too long." He spoke in formal Malfean to her, relying on memories of Takeru's prior interactions with her.  
  
Under the examination of his opened third eye, her beautiful human visage gave way to a doe-like face, thin and dark. Horns raised from behind her head before turning forward. Her glorious green kimono tarnished and faded before his eyes into a plain grey robe, as her fan turned into a collection of black bladed daggers. Her cleft hooves stamped nervously under his gaze. "Prince Izuku," she said. "I'm so happy to see you as well. We did not expect your appearance for so many more days…"  
  
"You have made too much noise, Mara, and have disturbed my metamorphosis. I was dancing with Adorjan when you rattled me awake…" he spoke to her with untamed venom in his voice as he gazed round at all the destruction, the piles of rubble, and the desecrated streetscape.  
  
Mara looked nervous to him. That could also possibly be anticipation before combat, he realized. "There were some issues we had to resolve, Shining Prince. There is no reason for you to be roused from your slumber or your visions of the Creators…" her unstated question, just how he had awoken before his time was due, remained hanging in the air between them.  
  
Izuku then turned his full attention to her, as he skipped past her own voracious appetite for knowledge. "I believe it is customary to bow to the new Prince when he first emerges."  
  
The dark skin around her thin animalistic mouth stretched as Mara smiled at him. The smile had no impact on her hauntingly hollow blue eyes. With a gesture of her fanned blades, she reminded him of the Chrysalis that lay behind him, uncracked, unbroken, and still occupied. "When you emerge, dear Prince… only then, as per the custom, will we bow."

  



	14. Demonic Primacy of Essence

{}

The emaciated form of All Might was painful for Endeavor to look at. Seeing his rival reduced to the lowest rungs of human weakness by those horrible chains was beyond anything Endeavor could endure. He did not want to imagine the torture All Might was going through. There was no way Endeavor could know or understand the defiant pride that his rival kept hidden within him, the last embers of a brave heart buried under layers of humility, and a rejection of his own current humiliation and helplessness.  
  
Not far from Ingenium's body, Toshinori knelt between two man-sized wasps, his chains growing heavier by the minute. He watched with bitter satisfaction as Endeavor lead the rescue. The hostages, both civilian and support, were awash with relief. The two heroes, one captive and one free, conveyed meaning to each other in brief coded signals. In order to avoid discovery, Endeavor had distant support technicians remotely reprogram Toshinori's communication earpiece. This way he would no longer hear anything from their shared channels, but instead he was relegated to a specific channel, one that would allow technicians to listen in on anything said in Toshinori's presence. No messages were to be transmitted back to Toshinori except in an emergency.  
  
All Toshinori could do was watch and wait as Endeavor moved on with the evacuation while he sat on the sidelines. While he sat in chains.  
  
Endeavor stiffened in the presence of Mahbagodeth. The monster was unlike anything he had ever seen or imagined. Sondok had been nothing like this amalgamation of disparate parts, this hollow patchwork of arms and masks. He was compelled, however, to visually confirm Midoriya Inko's safety as part of the exchange.  
  
"My compliments to you on burning Sondok's head off, mortal. You fought quite well. I look forward to seeing your performance when this ceasefire ends." the creature spoke discordantly, so much so that it was difficult to tell what emotions if any were conveyed. Endeavor decided to simply take the words at their face value and nod, cutting the conversation short.  
  
"Are you unharmed, Miss Midoriya?" the Fire Hero asked, turning his attention solely onto her. The woman appeared utterly exhausted and emotionally spent. Although he had been injured, he wondered at how she, an untrained civilian, was enduring all of this.  
  
Her smile haunted Endeavor to his core. He had hoped to see a spark of hope in her eyes, but he saw none. "I appreciate everything you and the other heroes have done. Please, retreat… I'll be going with my son… where I belong." Her words seemed hollow, like the slightest breeze would blow her down.  
  
The entire exchange tasted like ashes in Endeavor's mouth.  
  
"Come, regent mother. Let us collect our other guest before our journey to the Chrysalis." the monster's voice grated at their nerves, annoying Endeavor but shocking Inko with fear.  
  
The two of them watched as the creature floated over to the balcony of the apartment. Gesturing around itself madly with four clawed arms, it wrote a jumbled mess of symbols into the air that Endeavor could not comprehend. Were these sentences? How was this language read, top to bottom? Characters seemed to wrap around each other, a linguistic inception of complication. Once set aglow, the magic of his work roared to life as a bridge formed. It cobbled itself together, rising from nothing, a series of floating flat stones. None were physically connected to the other, but instead lay on a webbing of interlaced light that shone through the stones through a series of glyphs.  
  
Turning back, the monster bade her forward with one outstretched claw. "Come, regent."  
  
Every instinct in Endeavor's body pushed for him to stand between this monster and Midoriya Inko. His teeth grated hard against each other until he feared they would crack, yet he stood aside.  
  
"Your presence is no longer required." the monster spoke to him, turning that eyeless mask to regard him.  
  
Endeavor was about to bite back a sharp reply when somewhere in the distance, far over the monster's shoulder, Endeavor saw an unmistakable beacon of light. It shone through the darkness with emerald clarity. He judged that it was at least five kilometers away, yet it was bright enough that Endeavor could see the light reflect off of the creature's mask.  
  
"Come." the monster spoke with more urgency. Inko, confused, followed the creature across the stone bridge.  
  
Endeavor listened from the balcony to the chatter erupting across the airwaves. Beyond that light to the north, even more strange things were occuring. Reports were flooding in from across the city of strange activity among the enemy, as though they had broken off the main thrusts of their attack to instead hunt members of the civilian population.  
  
Through it all, one thing gave Endeavor hope. The tone of urgency in Mahbagodeth, the sudden speed of his movements… something had happened that was outside the creature's calculations. There was some variable the monster had not considered. He needed to find it. Rushing down the side of the building, Endeavor softened his landing with jettisoned gouts of fire. There was much to do.  
  
Far above, Toshinori was having similar thoughts. The way this creature moved spoke of hidden anxieties. The skittering of the wasps showed Toshinori their fear. It wasn't the heroes that had made them so nervous. It had started with that beacon of light to the north. Something there… could Young Midoriya have something to do with this?  
  
Mahbagodeth paused near Ingenium's corpse, regarding it briefly. "A promise is a promise." the creature uttered to Inko, before turning away. Instead, the thing moved towards Toshinori.  
  
Curious, Toshinori had to ask. "What is it about Ingenium that has you so… disappointed?"  
  
His question caused Midoriya Inko to flinch. She wasn't going to touch this topic of conversation. It was Mahbagodeth that answered him. "I said the heroes could go free… that includes the dead. I was hoping to harvest him for my art… his face would have been a beautiful addition to my wardrobe. The will of Cecelyne, however, is not to be denied."  
  
An ulcer of rage formed deep within Toshinori, a pit where his stomach used to be. "Those faces…"  
  
"Human." the creature stated. "Every single one of them. Their skin makes excellent leather, and the remaining tissues can be converted quite readily into inks and vellum parchment, though some basic transmutations are required. Enough of this… we must depart."  
  
Inko looked lost yet hopeful. "To Izuku?" she asked, almost whispering. Her pained expression was agony for Toshinori to look at.  
  
The monster gazed north at the display of light. "There is… a slight change of plans. We must make a detour. Now." he turned towards the two of them and once more drew strange sigils into the air, his claws moving at a frenetic pace.  
  
They both felt the strangest sensation possible as the sigils began to glow. It was like the tingling of limbs when circulation is cut off, yet it was altogether more extreme and odder. Glancing down, they each saw that their feet were evaporating into fine sand on the wind. Soon, their fingers and hair began evaporating as well.  
  
"It's all right." Toshinori spoke to her, not knowing if his words were true. "I'm here with you." he reached out to her and took her hand into his own as the two of them evaporated into the air. They were joined by two guardian wasps and Mahbagodeth in their erosion, but Toshinori and Inko chose to maintain eye contact with each other, holding hands until they both dissipated into nothingness.

  


{}

Cold and isolated, Ingenium's body laid undisturbed under foreign stars. As a testament to his sacrifice, no other bodies rested near his. Not far from him, the crown and weapons of Sondok evaporated into fine sand that blew away on the wind. Across the street, forgotten by nearly everyone, a lone idol of salt rested on the floor. A single stain of dried blood marred its otherwise pristine surface.  
  
They waited patiently. They each had nothing but time.

  


{}

Izuku stared unflinchingly into Mara's eyes. Her gaze was hauntingly relaxed, her smile was unwavering. His vision allowed him to see not only her falsely human face, but also the true demon underneath. Yet even with his third eye open he could not pierce the veil of Mara's dark heart.  
  
He smiled beguilingly at her, quietly pouring precious essence into his mannerisms, lending subtlety and authority to his words. "Regardless of precedent, Mara, it would be best if my Chrysalis rested somewhere undisturbed. Perhaps somewhere less crowded… less noisy… such hateful… wretched… noise. Then I could continue my pilgrimage to Malfeas undisturbed."  
  
He bluffed, choosing his words carefully. He was relying heavily on the instinctive fear all demonkind had for Adorjan, the Silent Wind. He also knew that his heretical powers, taught by Takeru, were relatively unknown by demonkind. He needed Mara to believe that the entirety of his spirit was here in the human world and imply that the result would be a stunted Prince. Even if there was no evidence that such a stunted being could be blamed on them, they would collectively be punished for the implication alone.  
  
If Takeru's accounts were trustworthy, Malfeas was hardly a fair place to live.  
  
Her eye twitched as worry clouded her eyes. Good. "If it would assist with the Prince's sleep, with his dream filled journey… then yes, we would be pleased to accommodate. What do you suggest, Prince Izuku?"  
  
"I will order human slaves to transport the Chrysalis… to a mountain not far from here. Mount Takao, a smaller mountain by many estimates, it will still serve as a quiet resting place while I commune with the Creators." he gestured off in the direction of the mountain. He was grateful that none of the humans present could speak the Malfean tongue, or else his subterfuge would fail immediately. He pondered briefly that he did not count himself as a human, but threw the thought aside.  
  
She smiled prettily at him, mirth returning to her eyes. "That would invalidate the ceasefire, my Prince. Though I imagine you would prefer that, to ensure that your human mother is no longer in Cecelyne's debt?"  
  
Of course she would think that, Izuku thought. It was partially true, as he knew that Cecelyne's debts were never cheap. His mother would someday be charged with a task that would be unavoidable, an order that could not be disobeyed. Knowing Cecelyne, the task was already woven into her endless machinations. Plans within plans, as Cecelyne might put it.  
  
However, if Izuku allowed Mara and her fellow demons to have their way, his mother's debt would be discharged, washed away in a river of human blood. The demons in turn would try to claim that Izuku owed them dearly for delivering his mother from her bondage. The thought disgusted him.  
  
"Until my full emergence, she is still my mother-regent. It is not for me to gainsay her decisions on my behalf… not yet at least." Izuku ran some quick calculations in his head, and not finding a real answer to his dilemma, he bluffed. He poured essence to embolden his own authority, calling upon the chains that bind the demon races back to the Yozis. "I will move my Chrysalis by another method. Bring a team of Erymanthoi to me for transport."  
  
Mara's smile had a sneering quality to it. Izuku immediately understood his mistake. The chains bound lesser beings to greater ones… and even though Izuku was a Green Sun Prince, his Essence was still fragile and weak compared to Mara, the Shadow Lover. By prying at those chains, he had opened himself to receiving undeniable orders from her. "No, dear Prince. Those deva are assigned to your protection, and we still do not know if the enemy is here. Therefore: move the Chrysalis yourself."  
  
His bluff had been called. Even with all the power that Adorjan and Cecelyne had given him, he lacked the strength to carry an object as heavy as the Chrysalis over such a long distance. If he asked the heroes for assistance, the demons would once again feast on human flesh. Mara had caught him in his own trap. He had underestimated the Demonic Primacy of Essence, the chain that links all demons to each other and to their masters. He had no choice but to carry out her demand.  
  
It was too late for regrets now. He would have to follow this command to the letter. The distant voice of Takeru whispered to him, and Izuku knew what was needed next: malicious compliance. "Very well, Mara. I shall move the Chrysalis under my own power, as per your order. Any deva that stands in the way of that command will be treated according to their disobedience." Deva, he thought bitterly, using the polite term for demon. His mind tugged at the spiritual chains of that connected him to Mara, pouring precious essence into his words, adding his authority to Mara's rather than clash his will against hers, constructing an essence laden order that neither of them could contradict.  
  
Mara's eyes darkened, immediately understanding what Izuku had done. "You would dare brand our kind as traitors to the Yozis… just for standing in your path?" Her smile showed more teeth than before, appearing menacing like a barely concealed grimace.  
  
He smiled at her, mirroring her expression. "Be sure to meet me on the mountain after I have found the best place to rest, Mara. I look forward to renewing our friendship… oh, and one more thing."  
  
"What?" she clipped the question out to him.  
  
"Treat the humans of this world carefully. They are my property." he spoke bluntly, using terminology she would accept and understand. It was the greatest bluff he had tried in this encounter.  
  
She regarded him carefully, but said nothing. Backing away from him, she faded into the darkness. Izuku, even with Takeru's help, had no idea if that had gone well for him or not. All that was left now was for Izuku to make his own lies into truth.

  


{}

The others watched transfixed as the greenlit holographic man spoke to the woman in gold and green. Their conversation, though heated, was cordial or even professional. The young man spoke with confidence and authority, and the woman, though jovial and at times sinister, eventually left.  
  
None of them understood a single word of what had just transpired.  
  
Something about the man's posture sagged after she was gone. It was clear that whatever their exchange was, he had exerted a lot of energy to appear as calm and as confident as he had portrayed himself during their discussion. Unfortunately, there was no time for any of them to relax.  
  
He barely resembled the photograph of the boy inside the shell from yesterday morning's briefing. He also glowed. Everywhere. If that didn't fit the enemy's description of a "Shining Prince" then Eraserhead had no idea what else would meet the qualifications. "Midoriya Izuku, I presume?" the professional hero asked.  
  
The glowing man turned to face them. His brow was adorned with a single shining jewel placed just between his eyebrows, like a small white star against a backdrop of green fire. A harsh brand of two fiery crossed blades dominated his forehead. The brand hurt to look at, not due to it's luminous glow but because of something unsettling about it, as though the symbol instinctively intimidated each and every one of them.  
  
His head was crowned with a cascade of wind-combed hair cast chaotically behind him. His face was beautiful but disconcerting, with eyes set ablaze with green fire set protectively above pronounced cheekbones and a strong jawline. From his neck down his body was carved with the muscles of a long-distance runner or swimmer, lean yet powerful.  
  
"You must be Eraserhead. It's good to be able to look you in the eye while we talk." Izuku spoke, his voice deeper, richer, and more textured than it was before. He surprised himself with the way he sounded, now that he was relaxed enough to pay attention. It was like this experience had endowed him with a second less-awkward puberty just after his first had ended.  
  
Gang Orca coughed. Bakugou turned his eyes away.  
  
Maintaining eye contact, Eraserhead spoke neutrally. "Let's get something for you to wear, Midoriya." he inclined his head towards the young women behind him, talking his way around the fact that apart from bracers on his wrists, Izuku was completely naked.  
  
Mina and Momo stood transfixed, their eyes wandering up and down as they absorbed every detail of Izuku's body. His shoulders and chest were broad, yet none of his muscles were overly large. Tapering down to his waist, the downward angles of his abdominal muscles forced their gazes lower, as if to obscenely direct their vision. Immense power was implied by his thighs and calves, as well as everything in between. The only thing offering him any discretionary modesty was that his translucent nature and internal glow made it difficult to discern his masculine anatomy without concentrated staring.  
  
Izuku's burning eyes turned to focus on Momo, studying her. "Excuse me, miss. Could you transmute something for me to wear?"  
  
A million questions rushed to not only the forefront of Momo's mind but of the heroes around her. How did he know about her Quirk? Just what could he see by looking at her, or at any of them? Momo however skipped past those questions to another, less obvious one. "You're wearing bracers on your forearms… can't you project more clothing or armor onto yourself?"  
  
If not for the green pallor cast across her face, Momo's blush would be evident for everyone. Despite her embarrassment, she stepped forward. Izuku's turned his posture, aligning his body to his eyes. He continued to stare her down, regarding her with an uncomfortable intensity. "I wish I could." he spoke, breaking his hard examination with a carefree smile. "I can only project what I'm actually equipped with, unfortunately."  
  
Momo tucked that information into the recesses of her mind, promising herself to ponder this all later. It didn't feel like a lie. He clearly had no care about his own exposure, neither shame nor pleasure. She didn't feel like she was approaching some flashing pervert, but instead like she was offering a saddle to a wild untamed beast, a lion that was never meant to be ridden.  
  
Momo's cheeks grew hot when she realized the full nature of her own analogy. She ignored her own feelings and focused on printing out some simple clothes, starting with a pair of vantablack boxer briefs. She was concerned that his own radiance would shine through anything, even a shade lighter, outlining him for all to see. The fabric was elastic enough that she wouldn't need his measurements.  
  
"Yaoyorozu Momo," she offered her introduction along with the garment.  
  
His fingers felt even warmer than the radiant light that surrounded them. "It's good to meet you, Yaoyorozu, and thank you."  
  
Mina unabashedly got out her phone to film this entire exchange. A harsh glance from Midnight chided her to be discreet about it, but she did not stop. How could she? This wasn't just some hot guy, this was history. But it was also a really hot guy… putting on underwear. It was a shame that his own glow and the illuminated air obscured what the phone's camera could capture. As stealthily as she could, she held her phone down near her waist, hoping no one else would take notice of her furtive documentary.  
  
As Momo set to the task of printing a pair of pants from her midsection, the two members of the Uraraka family stood forward. "What about my wife? You saved me but what about her?" the middle aged gentleman was caught somewhere between gratitude and rage, his own tearful confusion evident on his face.  
  
Neither he nor his daughter fully comprehended what had just transpired, but Ochako was able to hazard a guess. "Dad, hold on… Izuku, right? Um… that wasn't my mom, was it? Is my mom ok, is she safe?"  
  
For the briefest moment Izuku's heart broke with sympathy. Dividing himself to come here was the right decision. Already he could see how hopelessly lost everyone was against an enemy they clearly didn't understand. He held up his hand in a calming gesture. "I can't say where your mother is, miss, or your wife, sir. All I can tell you is that that creature was not her. It merely copied her based off of images from your minds."  
  
Midnight interrupted, feeling responsible for Ochako. "Can you tell us what it was?"  
  
Izuku nodded. "The demons that work for Mara are called Bisclaravets, the Shadow Eaters. They can take the forms of both animals and people, but these are illusions wrought from the emotions of their hopeful victims. They lure people by preying on the best of our natures, or sometimes the worst."  
  
Eraserhead caught onto one facet immediately. "Did you say demons?"  
  
Izuku nodded somberly. "They are not the creatures of Eastern or Western myth, but they are demons. If the Bisclaravets are on the loose, they will try to lure heroes into rescuing them, baiting them to break the ceasefire. There are two hundred and fifty each of all three breeds here in Musutafu: the ape-like Erymanthoi, the paper-wasp Kamgatae, and now the shape shifting Bisclaravets."  
  
"What is it they want with us, with our world?" Mount Lady asked. Eraserhead already stepped back from the conversation to get word across the comms about shapeshifters among the enemy. Mr. Uraraka quietly collapsed within himself, in terrified awe that he had almost thrown his life away to rescue some awful impersonator, a demonic creature that would prey on the love he held for his wife and family. Ochako squeezed her father's hand, grateful that he was still there with her, and the two shared tearful smiles.  
  
Izuku gave a nod of gratitude to Momo for the pants before turning to Mount Lady. He paused to put the pants on, obviously struggling with what to say next. He opted for blunt truthfulness. "Slaves. Fuel. Food. Sport. The demons have many uses for humans, depending on which ones you ask. First the advance team will extract me and bring back a report of how much resistance they faced here. Then, after brainwashing me, they will assign me enough legions to conquer and enslave the entire planet. The brainwashing could take several years, and the conquest likely a decade. They don't care much for your land or natural resources, though they'll try to find uses for those as well… it's really just the people that they want."  
  
Everyone was shocked with how plainly he put it, but after the day everyone had they weren't as surprised as they could have been. To their credit, none of them gave in to despair.  
  
Except perhaps one, though he covered it well. "Bullshit!" Katsuki roared. "Who the fuck are you, and where is Deku?"  
  
Izuku's mouth twitched into a smirk before his features smoothed out again. "Bakugou, temperamental and unobservant as always."  
  
"The fuck you just say to me?" Katsuki spat.  
  
Izuku's smile was a feral dangerous warning. Even in his holographic translucence everyone could see he had elongated fangs, bared for all to see. "I am Midoriya Izuku, the Quirkless kid you abused for years, the one who used to look up to you as though you were his big brother. I remember all of those feelings, all of the painful love and the intimidation… but that's gone now, cut away like so much else. I have changed. Now…"  
  
"No one changes this much in a single day! Deku is a spineless shrimp! He stutters! He's shy! He's awkward! He's not even that smart! He's weak, and he's useless! He's short! He's a Quirkless loser! You're not him!" Katsuki accused, venom thick in his voice, anger consuming his eyes.  
  
Izuku strode towards Katsuki. The heroes tensed, fearing what kind of violence he might inflict. He radiated waves of fear and intimidation. "Demons don't exist." he seethed sarcastically. "They don't appear out of thin air and offer deals with the devil. They don't tempt weak bullied kids with power beyond mortal comprehension. They don't attack cities or eat people… would you like to say anything else useful, Bakugou? The world is on a precipice, people are going to die, and no one has time for your juvenile shit."  
  
Katsuki roared defiantly, throwing the first punch. He would beat this fucking imposter and force him to reveal the truth, force him to cough up what he had done to Deku. That punch never landed. Katsuki's opponent moved with blinding speed, knocking Katsuki to the ground in a single blow. Gasping for air, Katsuki tried to understand what had just happened, how things had gone so wrong so quickly. Wracked with pain from his impact into the asphalt, he had never been beaten this badly before.  
  
Gang Orca had seen everything, better than anyone else did. He could only name one other person who had ever moved at such speeds. Her name was Sondok. Orca knew without a doubt that if Izuku had wanted, then Katsuki would already be dead. Instead, Izuku had used his power to forcefully shove Katsuki down to the ground, tripping him at the same time. The battle was one-sided enough that Orca feared what this man… no… demon was capable of.  
  
Flexing his abdominal muscles, Katsuki struggled to get back up. His back cried out for him to hold still. He was shocked when this stranger, this imposter, offered to help him up. Bending at the waist, he offered a hand for Katsuki to grab hold of. "Are you alright, Bakugou?"  
  
It was the way he said it, the precise inflection of his words. The voice didn't match, and neither did the face or body. However, Bakugou was struck that this was exactly how Deku had offered to help him stand once when they were children. This time the words were spoken calmly and confidently, and with much less familiarity, but underneath Katsuki detected the same concern was buried in there somewhere. Could this really be Deku?  
  
Reaching up to grab hold of Deku's hand felt wrong, like Katsuki was admitting his own weakness. He did it anyway, allowing Deku to pull him up. Standing so close to him, Katsuki resented how much taller this version of Deku had gotten, how much attention he was getting… hell everything about him. "I don't owe you any apologies." he said, though he himself wasn't sure what prompted him to say that.  
  
Izuku spoke at a lowered volume, not quite a whisper. "The law is the law. I don't care anymore about what you did to me. Stop calling me Deku, though. I'm Midoriya to you, Bakugou."  
  
Katsuki's spine went cold at the unmistakable venom in Deku's voice. What the fuck was that? What law? When did Deku… when did Midoriya become… frightening? None of this was right.  
  
"Enough of this." Eraserhead raised his voice. "I think we all want to know what you spoke about with that woman, Midoriya."  
  
Katsuki had enough sense to appear intimidated.  
  
Izuku remained nonplussed. "There is not much to tell. I demanded that my Chrysalis be moved to Mt. Takao but was denied at every turn. If the heroes do it, the ceasefire ends. The demons won't do it. That only leaves me, and even with the power I've been granted, the best I can do is drag or roll the thing."  
  
"Why did you pick Mt. Takao?" Midnight interjected.  
  
Izuku turned to regard her, briefly remembering how an erotic immitation of her appearance was used to entice him, to befuddle his senses and decision making. "Mt. Takao is far enough out of the city that it would force the demons to relocate and abandon any attacks here. They wouldn't be able to pretend those attacks were out of duty to my protection."  
  
"What about our original plan?" Gang Orca spoke up. "We were going to load the thing onto a ship and take it out to sea…"  
  
"Absolutely not." Izuku interrupted. "They would see that as a direct threat to my safety and would completely slaughter anyone involved. If that was your original plan I'm not surprised they attacked."  
  
Izuku didn't realize his mistake until it was too late. He had practically defended the attack, and everyone here was still extremely sensitive, justifiably so. He could see their tensions rising. Before anyone could jump onto what he had said, he raised his hands apologetically. "I'm not defending them. None of you knew they existed, and they ambushed all of you…"  
  
Gang Orca's tone was grim. "How do you know about them ambushing us? Was that part of your conversation… in their language?"  
  
Izuku should have known better than to take offense. "Are you trying to tell me they appeared and tried to be diplomatic first, that they offered terms first and that you broke them? Which is it? Did you all break peace or did they attack without warning?"  
  
Izuku had no idea what kind of a sore spot he had just struck.  
  
The larger hero loomed over Izuku, as though to intimidate him with the difference in their sizes. "You tell me… after all, they want you to lead an invasion that enslaves all of us… you speak their language… hell, your powers are hand-made gifts from them."  
  
Izuku was ready to defend himself, but he knew he had to be careful. One wrong word and this could devolve into violence. It was a fight he could win, but one he didn't want to have.  
  
"Stop this! All of you!" a voice rang out from behind Izuku. He and others around him turned to face the trembling, tearful figure, a normally soft-spoken brunette in a maid uniform named Uraraka Ochako. Holding onto her father's hand as though to draw strength from him, she rang out with her own defiance. "Izuku has been trapped in that shell all day! All day! He wasn't part of this attack, and how dare you throw this at him! He was a hostage! His mother is still a hostage!" she pointed a finger accusingly at Gang Orca.  
  
She turned her gaze to Izuku. "I've never met him before… he doesn't even know my name, or my parents… but the first thing he did when he got out was to throw himself, using himself as a human shield! He did all that to save my father's life! He knocked us all back… away from a fight that would have…" she sobbed, struggling for the words. No one interrupted her. "And then he talked the enemy into leaving… even if it's short lived, he just bought all of us more time! And this, this is what you want to do with that time?! You want to accuse him of being the enemy, when he's probably the best chance we have of surviving?"  
  
She turned her gaze to Midnight, to Mount Lady, and then to Eraserhead. "He just gave us all a plan to make these things… these demons! To… to relocate them, all of them, outside the city. Why aren't we talking through that instead of arguing about his motives… This could be the one shot we have to fix this! Even if it just buys more time, we have to try!"  
  
Izuku regarded her with wide eyed awe, as did the heroes and the other deputized young women. Katsuki turned his gaze away, shame burning his cheeks. For their parts, Mina became more obvious about filming the entire exchange while Momo moved to stand next to Ochako. "Miss Uraraka is right." Momo said, placing a hand on the shorter woman's shoulder. "Let's focus on solving the present situation. After all, moving this… Chrysalis outside the city was the original reason we all came here."  
  
"Agreed." Mount Lady said. "Midoriya… you said it would break the ceasefire if any heroes helped you move the shell. What if one of us… what if I quit being a hero?"  
  
Midnight gasped at the suggestion, but others showed their surprise with more subtlety.  
  
"No." Izuku killed the idea off. "You could rejoin the heroes later, and that kind of technical work-around is exactly the kind of thinking they consider when they make these bargains. Besides, you've done enough, Mount Lady. You've earned a break."  
  
Ochako, hearing this, stepped forward from between her father and Momo. "I'll do it." she clenched her fists. "I'll help you move it."  
  
Eraserhead regarded her, knowing that this was probably the best possible plan, but he still hated having a civilian do so much. Before he could object, though, Midnight interjected. "Not without me there, you're not. You're my deputy. I'm responsible for you."  
  
"Sorry… but I can't take help from a hero or one of their deputies on this. Don't worry, I'll figure this out…" Izuku turned away from them to regard the Chrysalis itself, turning his focus inward to ponder how best to accomplish this goal.  
  
Ochako wasn't having any of this. She boldly stepped into Izuku's personal space, craning her neck to look him straight in the eyes. She'd be lying if she said he was unattractive, but right now his obstinate refusal to accept help was annoying her. "What if I stopped being a deputy? Did you even consider that?"  
  
He studied her. With his third eye he examined her Quirk while weighing her words. "Alright." he said. He held an arm out past her head and grabbed hold of something from thin air. A golden chain formed before their eyes, linking from his heart back to somewhere inside of the brassy shell. As he wrapped the chain around his arm, he elaborated. "You officially quit being a deputy, then you can help me move this to Mt. Takao. I warn you, there will be violence on the way, but I will protect you. It'll be just you and me out there..."  
  
Eraserhead interrupted him. "No, we are coming with you, at least as an escort." he demanded.  
  
Izuku shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, but there is no way you'll be able to keep up with me. Besides, you should be focusing on civilian evacuations. The demons may vacate the area soon, but that won't stop them from doing extreme damage on the way out."  
  
No way they could keep up with him? Eraserhead was not the only one who picked up on that. Midnight however interjected. "No. You two alone? Two civilians? I can't sit by and let you do this, not when I'm responsible for Miss Uraraka."  
  
Izuku smiled. "You miscounted, Midnight. One civilian, and one Exalt." Turning from Midnight, he bowed to to Ochako's father immediately afterward. "Sir, I humbly request your blessing to protect your daughter as she assists me."  
  
Everyone expected that Mr. Uraraka would explode at any moment, objecting to a plan that could endanger his daughter's life. He stepped forward and ignored Midnight and Izuku, placing his hands on Ochako's shoulders. "Ochako… you are my pride… you are the best of both your mother and I. I know that you want to help us… and I know that you want to be a great hero… I want you to know that I am proud of you. Don't worry about me. I'll find your mother and we'll stay with the heroes. Just be safe. That's all I ask. Just be safe, and know how proud I am of you, and how much I… how much we both love you." Tears fell from his face onto hers and the two of them embraced, possibly for the last time.  
  
"Thank you. I love you." she said to him.  
  
At the end of their embrace, Ochako turned toward Midnight and bowed deeply. "Thank you for taking me into your care. I formally request to be discharged as your deputy to take care of important business."  
  
Ochako did not expect to be embraced by Midnight. "I'll help your father find your mother. I promise."  
  
"Thank you." Ochako whispered. As the two disengaged, Ochako was swept into another embrace, this time by Momo and Mina. The three of them had not known each other for more than a few hours, but their mutual concern had bonded them deeply. It was like they were saying goodbye to a friend they had known for years. Mina had forgotten that she was filming, and captured the moment with a close up of three weeping faces pressed together, fear and sorrow and bravery all melding together into a single emotion. Ochako, just hours before, was a waitress to two more strangers. Now, they were friends, bound together against the same hardships.  
  
"Come." Izuku bade. The three friends ended their embrace, after asking each other to be careful. Momo stood by Mina as the pink woman resumed filming. Both fought hard to avoid crying, denying how worried they were for Ochako's safety.  
  
At Izuku's insistence, she stepped forward, pressing her hands against the Chrysalis Grotesque. It was warm to touch, but somehow that warmth felt wrong to her. Her power reached forward through her fingers, and the giant structure lifted gently from the ground, floating at the edge of her outstretched fingers.  
  
"Wait!" Momo uttered, stepping forward. "Midnight, can I see your communication piece? Please?"  
  
Midnight complied, and Momo focused on it while making as close a copy as she could. Mount Lady stepped in to advise on the correct chanel. Once the final product was ready, Momo presented it to Ochako. "Be safe. And let us know what's happening out there."  
  
"I will." Ochako embraced her, and then her father one last time. "I'm proud of you, too, daddy." she whispered to him.  
  
To Ochako's shock, Izuku picked her up, cradling her in his arms. Instinctively she held onto him, balling her fists while keeping her pinky fingers out to protect them both from becoming weightless.  
  
"Everyone stand back, please." he requested.  
  
Unsure what was about to happen, they all complied. "Hold on tight to me." he said to Ochako.  
  
They were shocked when Izuku took off into a hard run, moving at speeds comparable to Ingenium. What was more astonishing was watching the gigantic shell trailing after him, light emanating from both the man and his cargo. The heroes and their deputies were soon engulfed in darkness as their eyes tried to readjust, watching the green glow of the Chrysalis grow ever more distant.  
  
"Holy fuck…" Katsuki uttered, amazed at Izuku's speed. "Holy shit! Go! Go!" he caught himself cheering for Deku… and he didn't care. He propelled himself upward, taking in the sight of Deku's rapid progress. "Go Deku Go!" Even as the glow was obscured by buildings, it displayed their location with obvious clarity. Their rapid departure filled those left behind with awe and, more dangerously, hope.  
  
Mount Lady ran to the other side of the street and grew to her maximum size, towering over all of them as she afforded herself the best possible view of Izuku's progress. "Damn he's fast." she remarked.  
  
Mina was still filming, recording the light of Izuku's anima shrinking away toward the horizon, taking Ochako with him.  
  
"You're going to share that, right?" Momo asked.  
  
Mina turned a delighted smirk towards Momo. "For you? Absolutely." Mina said simply. After a moment, a thought crossed into the forefront of her mind. "Yaoyorozu… did you intentionally… not make him a shirt?"  
  
Momo shared a smirk back with Mina before turning her full attention back to the departing emerald light. "I have to conserve power for just the essentials, Ashido. We're hero deputies, after all."  
  
"Oh, of course." Mina smiled, marveling that their morale had finally improved. Maybe, just maybe, they'd figure out a way to win.  
  
"You also forgot to make shoes." Midnight observed out loud, much to Momo's embarrassment. Both Mina and Midnight laughed at the oversight, but eventually, Mount Lady and Momo joined in.  
  
Katsuki rolled his eyes at their antics. Deku really was gone, or rather changed, he mused silently. Maybe though, maybe that was ok. As he watched Gang Orca's and Eraserhead's stern expressions, he knew it would have to be.


	15. Joy in Violence Approach

{}

Nothing could have prepared Ochako for Izuku's speed and power. If not for the reassuring light and warmth of Izuku's embrace she would be scared out of her mind. The centripetal strain on her limbs from his dime sharp turns threatened to pull her shoulders and hips apart at their sockets. At those times she felt his grip tighten onto her legs and torso with vice like pressure, loosening his hold only when the turn was at an end. She was completely at his mercy.  
  
It was the most exhilarating ride of her life.  
  
From the outside she was sure it was quite a sight. The idea of a French maid being carried this way by a tall shirtless Adonis… She admitted it to herself in the quiet recesses of her heart. As she looked away from the rapidly passing scenery and up into his shining face, past his strong jawline and into those burning eyes, she admitted that his determination and focus was even more attractive than any of his physical features. Now was not the time for these kinds of thoughts though. She had to make herself useful to him, to help him save as many people as possible.  
  
Even though she physically felt like dead weight at the moment, all she needed to remind herself of her own utility was to gaze over his shoulder or to feel the press of the golden chain wrapped around his forearm. It was strange to remind herself that the man carrying her was still trapped in that giant shell. He had never explained how this was all possible. She also wasn't sure she understood how he controlled the inertia of the shell behind them so well, let alone comprehend the light emanating from his every pore.  
  
No one had given him time to explain. All they had done is question his motives and his identity. Ochako seethed internally, feeling vitriol rise in her throat at the memory. Neither of Izuku's main accusers had done a thing to stop her father from throwing his life away, nor did they move to rescue her mother… who thankfully was a doppelganger. Despite that and Izuku saving all of them, they had the nerve to accuse him of being the enemy. Where was that nerve when her family was about to be slaughtered?  
  
Her eyes caught onto a sudden shift of his facial features. His stern focus gave way to an eager hunger unlike anything she had ever seen. His fanged smile promised bloody sport. He spoke to her then, shouting, but she couldn't hear him over the roaring wind of their passage. All that she heard was that things were about to get exciting. Ochako yelped in surprise as the hand that was supporting her back moved lower, taking a firm grab onto her ass while repositioning her to rest all her weight into one of his arms as he held her higher. She leaned into him, holding firmly onto his neck and shoulders even as she felt one of her breasts press firmly into the side of his face.  
  
Part of her expected him to turn and dig into her flesh with his elongated fangs. She whimpered quietly when she realized that part of her wanted him to. What was wrong with her? No! It was just a passing thought, no different than contemplating the fall from a ledge when you get too close. Everyone has flights of fancy like that. There was nothing more to read into about it.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted when a translucent golden dagger appeared in Izuku's other hand. Where had that come from? What was that for?  
  
Alarmed at the sensation, she felt his fingers dig deeper into her ass as they slowed down. She had little time to think about that as Izuku spun while rounding the next corner, allowing her to descend as he absorbed the inertia of their speed into his spin. Somehow Ochako found herself standing perfectly still as Izuku orbited around her, making her the eye of his storm.  
  
She had no idea how he knew there would be demons here, or how he chose this exact spot to set her down. What she did know was that his spin hurtled that gigantic shell directly into one of the ape creatures. It was smashed to death before it knew that it was under attack.  
  
There were at least twenty more where that one came from, and a full dozen of those gigantic wasps. A small group of civilians huddled in a nearby alley behind two heroes. Human and demon alike were momentarily blinded by Izuku's unrelenting illumination. The demons, while disoriented, did their best to react.  
  
They were doomed.  
  
Ochako's mouth twitched into a smirk as she saw terror on their apelike faces, reminding herself of the atrocities they had inflicted on the entire city, and just now on her own family. Yet even she was shocked by the brutal one-sidedness of this battle.  
  
Ochako had never seen anything like it. She had expected on some level that Izuku would be able to hold his own, but this was far beyond anything she had imagined. He used his own shell like an obscenely sized morning star, flailing it expertly to bludgeon one demon after another, moving at blinding speeds as he practically danced into their ranks. The creatures took this act in stride, the apes putting up their shielded gauntlets into defensive formations while the wasps ascended out of range.  
  
The entire attitude of the demons changed abruptly when Izuku stabbed one in the brain with his golden dagger. The thing screamed horribly before it fell limp to the ground. Shocked panic consumed their ranks, breaking their defenses as they each fled for their lives. The street filled with Izuku's cruel laughter as he chased them, hunting them. None of them could outpace his obscene speed. He even took the time to cut the Achilles tendon of a fleeing ape demon just to move on and kill several others. This was not a battle. This was a massacre.  
  
Ochako had a decision to make. She could have waited there, watching as Izuku scattered this demonic cluster and sated his bloodlust. That option tasted like ash in her mouth as she considered it, her bitter resolve demanding that she could not be so useless. Instead, she threw herself into the fray, striking out at two passing brutes before they could understand what had hit them. This was not at all like combat with the professional heroes, where she could dart back behind Midnight or Eraserhead for protection after using her Quirk offensively. Here she was completely exposed, justifying her actions on her own as she disrupted the enemy retreat.  
  
Her first attack was closer to a shove than an actual punch, but it got the job done. The demon hurtled away, slowly yet uncontrollably. She pressed the assault, sending another after the first. The two of them were practically gift wrapped for Izuku to finish off. She was grateful to see that he was heading her way.  
  
Her spine went cold as Izuku pushed past the targets she offered up to him. Fear threatened to consume her mind, first at the murderous intent in Izuku's eyes, but then at the dreadful realization that he was staring down something just behind her.  
  
It all happened so quickly.  
  
First, Ochako felt the powerful grip that trapped her torso, the pain as her ribs screamed at her. Her nostrils flared with the creature's carrion stench. Suddenly the gigantic hand went limp, the fingers slacking around her waist like a coat falling to the ground. Hot blood sprayed across her back, drenching her clothes and hair. She never saw the moment Izuku sped past her, nor did she see his blade strike the offending forearm clean from the beast. She did however see the gigantic conch-shell as Izuku swung it in a long overhead arc to smash the monster into red pulp.  
  
Izuku's light and warmth drowned her senses as he loomed over her protectively. Her face was against his chest and his free hand wrapped around her lower back. Somehow this felt more intimate than any of the prior invasions he had launched into her personal space. Ochako inhaled deeply, allowing warm air to fill her nostrils and lungs. He smelled clean, perhaps even as sterile as ozone. That scent or lack thereof somehow overpowered the bloody stench seeping into her pores.  
  
"I have you." he said to her. It was all that Izuku needed to say. He didn't scold her for putting herself at risk or praise her for her help. Staring through him, she could see the demons were fleeing, many of them already dissipating into fine sand. That didn't matter though, not to him. She looked up into his eyes and she knew. She knew without asking that he was, just moments ago, lost in joy as he sated his primal bloodthirst. He stopped his revel the moment he knew that she was in danger.  
  
He stopped for her.  
  
Chastising herself for getting in his way, she buried her face deeper into his chest. Opening her eyes, Ochako found it disconcerting that she could both see his muscles and through him to the heroes beyond. Her hand rested on his side, fingers tracing the grooves of his oblique muscles as though to reassure herself that he was solid, a pillar she could lean on.  
  
Her spine went stiff as she watched the two heroes venture out of the alley's protection, yet the civilians remained behind. Izuku's protective embrace, as welcome as it was a moment ago, was suddenly distressingly embarrassing. Ochako couldn't say why she felt this way, but she followed through with the feeling and pried herself out of Izuku's grip as the two men approached them.  
  
The two wore ostentatious hero costumes. The older of the two was in a grey and black skintight outfit that showed off his muscles and obscured the upper half of his face, while the younger was in a gold and red outfit that left his back wide open for a pair of powerful looking wings.  
  
"You saved our asses just now. Thank you." The older of the two said, bowing his head. "I'm Koumori, the Blind Hero. This is my sidekick Akahige, the Winged Hero. And you two are?" he asked.  
  
"Midoriya Izuku, pleased to meet you." Ochako watched the two of them as Izuku bowed. She didn't like the worried way their eyes ran over him, the judgment in their eyes as they took in the glow about him and the shell resting a short distance away.  
  
Just as she was about to introduce herself, the younger hero spoke up. "You're the boy in the shell, aren't you?"  
  
Ochako's spine turned into ice at the stone cutting edge in Izuku's voice. "I am not a boy and have not been one for some time." The heroes backed away slightly from his tone and bared teeth. Ochako knew that if she saw the surface of their fear, then Izuku had to know how deep the iceberg of emotion sank into their hearts.  
Did Izuku see her fear? Her shame? Could he smell it on her over the metal tinged stench of gore that covered her? Her mind hurled back to earlier the day before when she had expressed concern… for the boy trapped in the shell. A heavy pit lodged in her stomach as shame transformed into self-loathing.  
  
It was all the worse when she realized that she still had not properly introduced herself to him. They had each only heard the others name from context. How could she be so thoughtless, she wondered. How could everyone be so thoughtless?  
  
She had to correct this oversight. She stepped into the conversation, projecting herself into the hostile air between Izuku and the heroes. She bowed first to them and then turned to bow to Izuku as well. "Uraraka Ochako. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. Thank you for taking care of me."  
  
The predatory gaze in Izuku's eyes planted a cold seed of fear deep in her heart. His gaze wandered between her and the heroes as though contemplating which one of them to eat first. Ochako steeled her nerves and stepped into his personal space, finally issuing her own response to his earlier intrusions. She bowed again to him. "I really am very sorry."  
  
She was close enough to him that she could feel the heat radiate from his luminous body. She resisted the urge to shy away or to stiffen when his hand rose to touch her chin, directing her gaze to meet his. "You have nothing to apologize for."  
  
His eyes softened as she watched. Ochako saw winter transform into spring as her sight transfixed with Izuku's gaze. Bloodlust was replaced by gentle restraint. The man in front of her was still a violent predator, but it was clear that he regarded her the way the beast would see a member of its own pride. His gaze traveled beyond her to examine the heroes with cold indifference. "Eraserhead is coordinating the evacuation of civilians in the western quarter. Please guide these civilians per his instructions." He issued the command as though he fully expected to be obeyed.  
  
Ochako looked over her shoulder as the two heroes wordlessly complied. The two of them had every reason to be afraid, she realized. They didn't know Izuku. They didn't know that he had saved her family, that he had a plan to save everyone. She realized that she did not know him either. That thought didn't make her sad but filled her with nervous anticipation. Maybe when this was all over, they could be… friends? She lacked the confidence to hope for more.  
  
Her gaze shifted when Izuku leaned forward aggressively. She instinctively placed a hand on his chest as he roared out harsh sounding words in that awful language the demons used. Turning, she saw what had triggered his response. Hidden among the civilians was an oily black-leather creature, vaguely shaped like a human child, its human visage melting in Izuku's light. The thing screamed as though it was burning before fleeing back into the darkness.  
  
"Just what was that?" asked the older of the two heroes.  
  
"Shadow Eater." Izuku stated flatly. "They disguise themselves to confuse their prey. Human shadows are delicious to them. Once a shadow is eaten, the host becomes forever sleepless; madness and suicide become dread certainties."  
  
"Holy shit…" the younger hero spoke up. "How do we detect them?"  
  
Izuku listed his instructions with the kind of authority one would expect from a drill sergeant. "Shadow Eaters read emotions but not thoughts. They can pantomime the most expected responses to common questions and disguise their limited ability with appearances of emotional distress, childlike immaturity, or forms of inebriation. The best detection available to you is trivia. Ask questions only local humans could answer, like who won a recent sports match… or what street they live on, followed by the route they take to get there. When they get too stressed and confused, their shadows draw into their bodies and they start to chew nervously. After that, subdue them. They aren't any stronger than normal humans but are skilled at assassination."  
  
Ochako could not help being impressed at his encyclopedic knowledge of the enemy, despite how grim the knowledge was or how blunt his recommended application. As the heroes reported in, corralling the other civilians as they did, she remained close to Izuku. His knife vanished before her eyes, misting apart into fine sand that seeped into his luminous skin. As he reached to pick her up again, she once more placed her hand on his chest. "Izuku, can I… talk to you just a moment?"  
  
He smiled at her as he stepped back from her personal space, making it easier to maintain eye contact despite their height difference. "What do you need, Ochako?"  
  
Her cheeks grew hot when she realized that she had never asked his permission to use his given name instead of his family name, and now he was assuming the same liberty with her. It was reasonable that he would after she had left that door open to him. She cleared her throat. "I just… when you said I have nothing to apologize for… that's not true. I… just now, when you were fighting so hard… and when we were talking to those heroes over there… I covered it well, but I was scared of you. When you were charging past me and when you spotted that demon in disguise… Both times I feared you. I'm sorry to have doubted you, even for a moment!"  
  
She did not even realize that she was crying until she felt his thumb brush away her tears. "You have nothing to apologize for. I am scary. I even scare myself. I mean… I'm not fully human anymore."  
  
Ochako sharply inhaled air as she suppressed the urge to cry. Hearing him speak so reassuringly while admitting something that seemed so sad stirred a desire to return some comfort for him, but she did not know any words for this situation. As though he sensed her inner thoughts he continued, "The Yozis… the lords of the demon races… have changed me. They are still changing me. With each change I become more powerful but even less human than I was before." He gestured off to the Chrysalis, and she immediately remembered that somehow, he was still in there even though he was standing here talking to her.  
  
She wanted to ask so many questions, like how he was out here and in there at the same time, or what his powers even were. Were they like Quirks? But more than anything, she wanted to reassure him, and to know him. Not his powers. Him. Ochako took one of his balled fists into hers, using two of her delicate hands to hold onto one of his until she gently pried his fingers and held onto his palm and backhand. "I've known you for less than an hour, Izuku. You're already one of the most human people I've ever met. You've done more for me since meeting you than most have done in a year. I…"  
  
The words caught in her heart. She felt like she was being selfish, like she was making this about her own feelings and not his. She stopped, holding back what she was about to say.  
  
His fingers wrapped around her hand, surrounding it in strength and warmth. "Don't feel indebted to me. You're already helping me so much. As long as there is ever a sliver of humanity in me, I will fight to protect everyone and everything in this world. Help me do that, Ochako, and there will be no need for you to feel any obligation." His smile was one of gratitude, like she had given him the most thoughtful present ever.  
  
Was obligation the emotion she was feeling? Ochako was sure it was more than that. At least that meant that Izuku couldn't investigate her heart, though maybe she wished he could so that he could help her sort out the emotional storm that was brewing inside of her. Guilt. Gratitude. Admiration. Attraction. Awe. Helplessness. Fear. Intimidation… and more, so much more. She was afraid to even name these feelings. She told herself that it was all adrenaline, that these kinds of emotions would pass once the situation was over, and that solid lasting bonds could not form so quickly. "I…"  
  
He interrupted her. "We're running out of time." The words left his lips grimly as his eyes caught on something.  
  
She turned to see a set of floating translucent spheres cast in Izuku's green aura. They were small, no larger than her own fist, but there were many of them. Izuku strode past her, examining the image before kneeling. She crouched next to him and gasped when she finally understood what she was looking at.  
  
Projected onto the sands in front of her was a tiny figure running across the dunes. The miniature version of Izuku was difficult to recognize at first, but Ochako recognized him by his nude state and the bracers on his forearms.  
  
"Be careful, Izuku." She heard the words escape her lips before she knew she was speaking. She didn't understand what trials Izuku was facing inside the Chrysalis, but it was bad enough that the Izuku out here was concerned. That alone was cause enough for her to worry.  
  
The Izuku that knelt next to her turned his head, a smile of gratitude lit his face. It did not diminish the edge of fearful concentration in his eyes. "Let's hurry."  
  
The two stood and once more, Izuku carried her. This time Ochako was prepared to be cradled in his arms. It was no longer the surprising invasion of her personal space. She no longer felt like a burden. Staring up at Izuku's clenched jaw and determined gaze, she felt safe in an unsafe world.  
  
Despite their speed and the air whipping her hair chaotically, she glanced from time to time at the image of a small Izuku running toward an ever-growing constellation of floating orbs. The image was beautiful yet terrifying. Ochako resolved not to let fear or worry bother her.  
  
She chose to have faith in Midoriya Izuku, both the man in the Chrysalis and the one who protected her.

{}

Iida Tenya did not believe that he could be swayed from his course, that he could not be deterred from his vengeance. He eluded security checkpoints set up by the military, crossed the concrete ravine that legally counted as a river, and even outran a patrol of human-sized wasps. Nothing was going to stop him. Not the phone in his pocket, not his instincts for self-preservation, nor the authorities or even the monsters wandering the streets of Musutafu.  
  
This, however, Tenya could not ignore.  
  
The child was lost, dirty, and bleeding from an injured shoulder. It looked like she had been bitten by a bear or similarly sized beast. By all rights if such a creature had caught her, she should be dead. Tenya had thought it was a little boy at first, but then realized all too quickly that it was a girl dressed for outdoor sports. Her athletic skill was probably the only reason she was even alive.  
  
Tenya's heart froze with cold rage when he saw the girl was being chased by a ravenous ape-monster. The thing chased her haphazardly, destroying parked vehicles, fire hydrants, and any other obstacle that got in its way. The thing likely could move faster. Fresh blood dribbled from its mouth and chin. Tenya's rage created stringing tears of pure salt when he finally understood: this monster was rampaging just to make the girl's last moments even more terrifying than they otherwise would be.  
  
He altered his course before mentally processing the situation. Tenya had always been proud of his own speed and the training he'd endured at the hands of his brother Tensei. There was no time for such pride now, even as he broke every record he had ever set for himself. Soon, a screaming, crying girl was wrapped up in his arms as he ran quickly from the monster. As he suspected, the beast picked up speed and became significantly less destructive, focusing hard on keeping up with the lightning fast teen.  
  
He was confident that he could outpace the creature. However, Tenya did not expect to be cut off by more monsters. They appeared out of thin air, moving rapidly towards him as though they could run and teleport at the same time. Tenya and the girl were surrounded. Despite his speed they would soon be caught.  
  
As she clung to him with adrenaline-fueled strength, her tears and blood soaked into his shirt. He could not let these things have her.  
  
"Cannonball!" he heard the shout before a whirling mass impacted into the side of one of the apelike monsters. That mass turned out to be another young man with spiky red hair. His clothing was ruined by combat, but at one point that jacket and shirt must have been expensive. Holes in his attire revealed a hardened carapace where normal skin should have been.  
  
Before Tenya could coherently reply to the situation the area was engulfed in harsh winds. He and the girl in his arms were picked up by tornadic forces along with the red-haired teen. Wasps nearby were torn to shred by gale force winds, yet Tenya and his two traveling companions were set down unharmed on a nearby rooftop.  
  
Upon landing, Tenya was relieved when a shapely blonde woman ran to him to take the small child from his arms. Another young man with intense expressiveness continued to guide the winds around them… as the unmistakable hero Kamui Woods prepared an overgrowth of plant life.  
  
The beasts below roared, frustrated that their prey was out of reach. The building shook with harsh impacts as many of them impaled the exterior walls in their climb to the top. With secure handholds, the winds could not extract them from the structure. Once the new tree on the roof was ready, though, the hero and his deputies were ready to face a siege.  
  
Tenya could not just sit by and be rescued. He joined in, instinctively working alongside the red-headed teen to act as the group's mobile front line. Together, they worked to provide time for Kamui Woods and the wind-user to conjure up the long-range defenses that their group needed. The blonde exhaled a strange gas which was soon swept up in the winds. Tenya was amazed when some of the monsters started attacking each other after inhaling the wind-born vapors.  
  
This made it easier for Tenya and the red head to physically dislodge some of the creatures from the rooftop, but it was still difficult. These things each weighed half a metric ton. Teamwork against them was an absolute requirement. The rock-hard teen used himself as a tripping hazard, making it easier for Tenya to leverage his speed into hard hitting power against them.  
  
No matter how hard the group fought, more and more of the creatures emerges from nowhere to assault them. A long tree limb grabbed several of the monsters just before they could make it to the core of the group. They thrashed helplessly as they were squeezed to death. However, it was not enough. They were no longer merely climbing the side of the building but appearing out of thin air among them.  
  
The creatures were throwing themselves into the fray, uncaring about their own casualties. They clearly were aiming to take out the wind user as quickly as possible. Gigantic wasps hovered at the periphery of the battle, ready to strike the moment control of the air was wrested from mortal hands. They were faring well against the enemy for now, but they were fighting a long battle of attrition.  
  
A miracle passed by just then.  
  
Powerful green radiance flooded their eyesight from the street below. The source moved in quickly, pausing long enough to stop amid the horde of beasts below them. Tenya tried to look over the edge of the rooftop but his eyes had acclimated to the dark night. He couldn't make out the source of the light. All he understood was that somewhere down there the beasts were screaming. Above it all, he could hear maniacal laughter. Whatever was down there, it fought like a demon as it hunted these monsters with cruel irony.  
  
"No time to gawk! Let's go!" the red-head called out to him.  
  
Turning, Tenya saw that the group was about to cross a makeshift tree-branch bridge that Kamui Woods had constructed between buildings. Running at a brisk pace, he resolved not to leave his newfound companion alone in the rear. Keeping pace with the other teen was slow for Tenya, slow enough that he had time to think.  
  
The epicenter of radiant laughter ascended to one of the rooftops, slaughtering any monster unfortunate enough to get caught in the light. A series of loud impacts caused the light to flicker and dance uncontrollably. Tenya did not pause to look back, knowing that this was exactly the distraction that they needed for their escape.  
  
The group was heading deeper into the city. As they moved east and south, Tenya had just enough time to observe more and more of the monsters move after the emerald light that even now was rocketing off to the west. "Where are we going?" he mused out loud.  
  
"We're heading to ground zero!" the red head responded. "Kamui is on a mission from Eraserhead! The enemy might have left some equipment behind! We're heading back there to get it!" he smiled a shark toothed grin.  
  
Tenya did not let his emotions touch his face. Tears of rage and sorrow would have ruined everything. They were moving towards the start of this whole mess… towards his brother Ingenium. He resolved to think up an alias when it was time for introductions. For now, the group was in too much of a hurry, and there were too many enemies nearby to stop and exchange pleasantries.  
  
"I'm coming, Tensei." He dared to breathe the words as he wrapped his heart in bands of steel, suppressing his feelings and focusing on the mission at hand.  
  
Up ahead, the group had paused for a breather, providing the two rear-guard teens enough time to catch up. Kamui Woods wasted no time with introductions, instead just pointing out who everyone was to the newcomer. That was how Tenya met the red-haired Kirishima Eijiro, the shapely blonde Utsushimi Camie, and the intense Yoarishi Inasa.  
  
The child in Camie's embrace did not give out her name. She seemed too emotionally distraught to answer their questions.  
  
When asked, Iida Tenya lied about his identity. "Kimishima Tenya," was what he provided, using the maiden name of his brother's widow in place of his family name.  
  
The introduction caused the red-headed Eijiro to laugh as he struck the taller Tenya on the back. "Our family names sound pretty similar. We might be distant cousins! Too bad we don't look alike! C'mon, smile bro! You lucked out! This is a great group."  
  
And just like that, Tenya was latched onto a group of former strangers, bonded by trial and circumstance. The group moved to follow Kamui Woods, pausing only when… they could not believe what they were seeing.  
  
"What the hell…" it was the first time Inasa had spoken since Tenya had joined the group.

{}

Far above, the sky was illuminated with the green fire everyone knew of as the Aurora Borealis. No one in Musutafu had ever seen it before, at least not so far south as Musutafu. Alien stars continued to show through the great light, stars far brighter than anyone could recall. For the first time in recorded history, soft subdued warmth emanated from the aurora. Darkness was peeled away by emerald light.  
  
Only one pair failed to notice all of this, surrounded by the emerald glow of Izuku's anima. Izuku and Ochako continued their trek to Mt Takao, blissfully unaware of the fiery sky above them as Izuku detoured now and then for occasions of slaughter.  
  
Far away, the inhabitants of Europe and Africa still waited for a sunrise that was already several hours late, instead finding themselves inundated with ambient light from the twin auroras. Reports flooded in from around the world. The sun, still in the sky for some, had failed to rise for others. The auroras were flooding the planet with light in the sun's absence, giving off heat unlike any previous event in history.  
  
Observatories around the world, including those with orbital observation access and the International Space Station, corroborated the findings of the stars beyond the aurora. The stars and planets familiar to mankind for all human history were gone, replaced by constellations completely foreign to human experience. Yet the sun was still in the sky for a fraction of the planet, and the moon remained in orbit as well. No one could predict what would happen when the sun set in Central Asia, the last place on Earth with any solar light.  
  
None of it made any scientific sense. A zealous feeling of religious dread filled human hearts across the globe. Supplicants flooded holy sights of various creeds and traditions, regardless of how religious or secular they were before. Surely this was The End.

{}

Shigaraki and Kurogiri stepped from a dark portal, flanked by four inhuman guardians. The park that surrounded them was now nothing more than the debris of a battlefield. Abandoned vehicles crowded the periphery. Camp supplies and rations littered the grassy knoll in the park's center, as did deep grooved tracks and craters from the combat itself.  
  
The four creatures flanking them appeared vacant of thought, their exposed brains the only evidence that the things were once human. Their darkened skin and powerful muscles though more than compensated for their demihuman capacity for thought. They would serve well as meatshields, Shigaraki thought.  
  
He felt an uncomfortable itch on his neck as Kurogiri's dark form got just a bit too close. His companion spoke up. "Remember, Shigaraki. Our master's orders were very clear…"  
  
"Yes yes, Kurogiri." Shigaraki lamented, double checking the hand shaped mask on his face was secure. "Get the artifact. Avoid combat with the demons. I was the one talking to him while you just listened, remember?"  
  
His shadow shaped companion reared back, flustered. "I was only trying to remind you…"  
  
"It's ok, Kurogiri. You're probably the only one I like enough to take that from… but hear me out." Palpable excitement showed through his bloodshot eyes. His excitement was almost infectious.  
  
"Imagine how exciting it would be, Kurorgiri… if we stirred up just enough trouble for those demons to execute All Might, the Symbol of Peace!"


	16. Essence-Dissecting Stare

{}

Izuku ran with purpose. The dunes flew past him as he homed in on his objective. Far ahead loomed the walls of the Demon City: Malfeas. It dominated the horizon. Walls and towers stretched out to engulf Izuku's vision, an abrupt conclusion to the eternal and endless sands. Even from this distance Izuku could make out movement. The walls seemed to be rotating slowly, shuddering outward as though to advance on the desert, swallow more space, continually annexing more and more land into the city itself. Gnawing, grinding, the peripheral noise of self-constructing stonework was constant, a distant hum that chewed on Izuku's hearing.

Beyond that wall a great crystal dome rose to dominate Izuku's vision, like a sunrise lit not by bright golden light but by myriad opal-fires contained in a perfect polished orb of diamond. As Izuku watched the gigantic sphere was joined by others, rising and detaching from the horizon as they orbited the great sphere, dancing around it in precise circles, even as smaller spheres orbited those in turn. The constant movement resembled a planetarium, but it was completely unlike any formation familiar to human history.

Once the last of the spheres finished ascending into their prescribed orbital patterns, the entire assembly moved towards Izuku. The array of crystals rushed towards him with all the menace of a meteor shower, threatening extinction, suffocation, fire, and darkness. Thousands of tiny whispering voices erupted from the onslaught even as the spheres continued their orbital dance, uttering names that Izuku knew better than to listen to.

Takeru had warned him. She Who Lives in Her Name was a dread deity. Just as deadly as her fellow Yozis. She may have given power up to Cecelyne, allowing the religious musings of her sister to determine the structure of demonic society, but the Whispering Flame and her myriad spheres were the Principle of Hierarchy. She may inspire less fear than Adorjan, but that was only because she was more discriminating in who and how she killed. She may serve and adore Malfeas, but the flame in her heart could never be confused for something as wholesome as love.

She burned with obsession. Her fires were flames of willpower.

Izuku immediately knew what he needed to do. Manifesting his dagger, he took hold of the smallest, newest chain in his heart. The weight on the end was much smaller and lighter than the others he had cut… was that yesterday? Today? Regardless, he could not allow the Whispering Flame to discover it, to learn the inner secrets of his rebellion. "Izuku…" he called through the chain linking him to his other half. "Take this from me and get ready."

Once Izuku cut the chain, his heart and memories twisted and altered, yet he still knew enough to pass the chain fragment along. He stopped running, holding perfectly still as he focused on his senses. He closed his eyes to the vision of Cecelyne's deserts, tuned out the walls of Malfeas and the impending threat of She Who Lives in Her Name… and felt the warm bath within the Chrysalis Grotesque. He reached out with his mind until he could make out the hand of his counterpart and placed the tiny weight in the hands of the other Izuku.

"Get ready." He told his other self.

"Be careful." Was the reply. "Everything rests on what you do next."

What was everything? Izuku struggled to remember but couldn't, not fully. That was for the best though, wasn't it? After all, he had done this to himself, so Izuku had to have a reason. All he knew with certainty was that he needed more power, in fact he needed the power of the Whispering Flame specifically. The safety of everyone he knew rested on his shoulders, even if he didn't understand the plan. Opening his eyes and shutting out the world of his birth, Izuku fully invested himself in the vision of the Yozis. He could not allow himself to be passive and reactionary. He needed to take the vision for his own, to wrest as much power as he could from these titanic beings even as they twisted his soul.

Opening his eyes, Izuku was shocked at how close the impactful storm of spheres was, how much ground they had covered in the sparse moments of his meditation. He had vastly underestimated the size of the Great Sphere. It was easily larger than a kilometer in diameter, surrounded by lesser and lesser spheres, like planets and their own moons all orbiting in a pattern of perfected circles that even Copernicus would marvel at. Before he could react, She Who Lives in Her Name was above him, her array of orbiting opal-fire spheres dancing madly far above his head. He craned his neck as he tried to get a better look, daring to open his third eye and gaze at the maddening display of light and power above him. Laser light fettered the spheres to each other, binding them all together through force of will rather than gravity.

Just as he marveled at the beauty of it, one of those lights turned on him, binding him inside and out before lifting him into his own orbit around the Great Sphere. The fire inside seemed to grow brighter as he approached or was rather dragged through the air. The force of will holding him seemed to grip him on his bones rather than maintain an external hold, threatening to rip him apart from the inside.

The Principle of Hierarchy did not waste time with introductions. She Who Lives in Her Name immediately probed into Izuku's mind, boring past his defenses. "You have divided your attention across two planes of existence? How? By what means are you accomplishing this?" the question was posed by thousands of whispering voices in the back of his brain, utilizing the sounds of familiar and unknown speech patterns, the sounds of family, friends, and strangers. Combined, the words burned him with cold emotionless calculation. The cacophony of whispers coalesced into one roar, directed by a singular purpose.

Pain shot through Izuku like blades running through his eyes before descending his spine. Free Will? Did Izuku possess it? Was that real? Could it stand against her onslaught?

Even as he struggled for words and wriggled in his captivity, Izuku could feel the lightning like tendrils of the Whispering Flame pore through his memories. He didn't know what was left there to find, or at least what might interest her. He knew from… somewhere… he couldn't recall anymore, but he knew that the prismatic lens of her vision would see past any lie. Honesty was required here, or at least technical honesty. "I use the powers and gifts of the Primordials. If there is a power that lets me do something unexpected, it derives from Adorjan or Cecelyne."

Opal fires danced before his eyes, his awakened essence-vision revealing a myriad of colors far beyond the human visual spectrum. Ultraviolet and infrared light bore into him with terrifying scrutiny. "You are an infantile being, not yet fully arisen from your Exaltation… you lack the essence required for Primordial methods of co-location. You also should not be awake enough to perform such feats. I shall restate my inquiry: what specific power allows you to perform these actions?"

His head hurt. It felt like a fist was gripping the base of Izuku's brain, rattling his spine in the process. He tried to suppress his own fear but knew that if she was not satisfied with the answers, mined from his thoughts, then she would kill him. "I don't know how I'm awake, Whispering Flame. I do however know the Charm that allows me to split my mind. It is called Divided Chakra Shintai." He gasped for air as the pressure on the back of his skull receded.

Lights danced across innumerable spheres. "Error. No such Charm by that name exists in the Primordial archives. Explain the function of this Charm to me. Do not spare details." The lights bore into him, staring him down.

The pressure on his skull increased several times over. Izuku feared that his bones would crack or worse. "I… cut through my chakras using the Heart Cutting Blade of Adorjan… and cast the cut away part into my own anima, the extrusion of my soul…" he hoped that this answer plus the images he was sharing would be enough. He could not allow himself to think… or else…

"Do not spare details." The whispering voices intoned, their collective will a shouting command of obedience. "Tell us the thought you wish to conceal from us."

The chain. It was too late. He spared one thought to protecting the secret of the chain and doing so was enough to render it obvious to the Great Sphere's innumerable senses. Izuku felt his heart and stomach lurch as the Whispering Flame sent arcs of energy down the chain itself, jolting him with electric sensations of her essence. Her probing mind-tendrils moved from him to examine the emotion-laden chain connected to his heart. "This is the umbilical-chain that feeds essence and life into your anima… but that does not explain how you have it active here and in your birth-world. The boundaries of time and space are not easily permeated. Tell us how you are accomplishing that…"

Izuku winced as a sense of utter failure overrode the pain he had endured so far. At least the truth would be useless, he consoled himself. "I don't know… I barely understand it myself."

No doubt her insatiable curiosity found his revelation frustrating. He honestly did not know. No amount of mind-probing would reveal the answer she wanted. "You will submit yourself to vivisection until we can derive the mechanism ourselves." It was not a request.

Vivisection?

"Atom by atom. Mote by mote. We will rend you apart and pore over every detail of your existence until all functionality is understood. Now: lower your mental and spiritual defenses. Doing so will reduce your… discomfort." The statements were hardly good bedside manner. Her dispassionate cruelty, her indifference to suffering, he had seen lesser forms of all these his whole life. He had seen such amoral thinking time and again as people around him accepted the world for what it was and did not dream of what it could be, accepted cruelty in the world but only if they themselves were not the target.

He grimaced a grin into existence, understanding that his own pain and suffering were sacrifices that she would oh-so-bravely make on his behalf. For science, perhaps. He however could offer up his pain for his own purposes. He dared not ask for guarantees of what came after. He wouldn't get any. He'd have to make guarantees for himself, even if his efforts provided nothing. "I submit to the vivisection."

Izuku braced for pain. He was prepared for agony, or at least that is what he told himself.

He was not prepared for the Whispering Flame.

Arcs of pure energy shot through him. He felt feverish burning, blistering, boiling. Crystals formed on his skin as he started to freeze, only for the energy and the fire to resume. Again and again, he felt the rapid heating and cooling of her efforts, interjected with scalpel-fine precision moments where she would cut deep into him with thousands of tiny needle-like extensions of her mind.

That was not the worst of it. He felt her presence coat the chain on his heart, her reach extending outward. Crystals formed on the chain, link by link, as her reach seemed to catalogue the purpose and meaning of each one as she reached through Izuku to his soul, to his birth world… to his only means of protecting everyone.

Fear gripped Izuku like never before in his life. Now that he understood the stakes, he had far more to worry about than his own life. If the Whispering Flame managed to probe the memories of his other self, to grab hold of the chain he had passed through the window of his soul… he himself did not remember what those memories were, but he knew to trust himself and his own secrecy. He struggled helplessly against the bonds of his captivity, the laser fine energies that held him. Screaming in pain, Izuku thrashed about helplessly, trying to figure out anything that he could do to avert this disaster.

The answer was not forthcoming... until Izuku remembered that he was not alone in this fight.

{}

Ochako watched as apartments and condos gave way to townhomes and then eventually to single family homes as they ventured farther from the heart of Musutafu. Technically they were already outside the legal city limits, but the buildings were nestled so close together that it was hard to tell. The main clue was that people out here had grass in their yards, small as those yards were.

Mt. Takao loomed in the distance. It wasn't the tallest mountain, just the closest. There was very little snow decorating the peak this time of year. It was a picture of subtle and serene beauty, cast in green by Izuku's anima, which tinted Ochako's vision of the world around them. Still, she was sobered by the thought that she and Izuku would soon be running up that mountain together, likely followed by a horde of demons.

Abruptly she felt all of Izuku's muscles tense up. This wasn't anything like the eager reaction he had when he diverted their course before. They had taken several short detours to hunt down packs of demons, each time offering needed relief to heroes or civilians nearby. Ochako grit her teeth while thinking about how flimsy this ceasefire was, how the demons continued to wander out to hurt anyone that even skirted the edge of their arbitrary and contradictory rules. The fighting had died down, but it had hardly stopped.

The demons were setting traps across the city, hunting their own kind while the hunted wore human disguises. No one could ignore that, certainly not heroes. It was sickening that any disruption to these hunts was breech enough to make the heroes into targets for violence yet again. The only blessing was that word of Izuku's revelation was spreading and fewer heroes were getting caught in the trap.

No wonder Izuku was so eager to hunt these monsters.

This tension she felt was nothing like that, though. She was startled when Izuku slowed down, a look of worry on his face, tightening his grip on her to save her from their own inertia. Ochako flinched as he turned to kick the gigantic shell higher into the air, preventing it from impacting into them. It arced over their heads only to crash down into the street nearby with a loud crunch, leaving a noticeable crater before bouncing.

Ochako deactivated her Quirk to help keep the thing under control, causing it to drop, settling into the fresh crater. She marveled at how durable the thing was. It had taken a lot of abuse over the… how long had this all being going on now? Still, there was not a single scratch on it.

Lights flickered from within the shell and down the chain linked to Izuku's heart. "She Who Lives in Her Name. Stop. Izuku. Stop. She will find out. Stop. She will kill me. Stop. Help. Stop." Izuku spoke the words out in a whisper, a disheartened breath. The disbelief and despair on his face wrenched at Ochako's heart.

She watched as he approached the shell, wondering if she was supposed to do or say anything. The lights flickered rapidly and were matched by lights from within Izuku's translucent body. Ochako marveled in silence as Izuku pressed an outstretched palm onto the surface of the Chrysalis, pressing until it permeated past the surface. He reached further and further inside, grasping for something she could not see and barely understood.

Finally, he took hold of something, a look of determined satisfaction on his face. "Be careful." He said. "Everything rests on what you do next." His statement caused Ochako to wonder at his relationship with his other self. They were the same person, right?

Izuku withdrew a tight fist from within the shell, holding a glowing gold chain with a similarly gilded weight on the end. The chain was smaller, both thinner and shorter, than the one that linked into Izuku's heart. He turned to offer the weight to her. At it's base, the weight would fit neatly into one of her palms, yet it was surprisingly heavy to her, requiring both hands just to hold it up.

"What is this?" she asked, unable to utter anything more eloquent while struggling with the weight.

"Memories that we cannot let the enemy have access to." He said, sighing as he contemplated something difficult. Before her eyes the translucent gold faded at her touch, transforming into dense yellow-on-white jade. It was suddenly far more solid and tangible. "If the Yozis reach those memories, then they will know that Izuku… that I intend to betray them. If that happens, they'll kill all of us… or worse."

Ochako suddenly felt like the weight was even heavier. Why was she holding something so important? "If this is in my hands… then…"

Izuku smiled softly at her. "Then it's not in our head for them to find. When the Yozis poke around, they won't find anything… too incriminating."

A thought tugged at her, bothering her. "If he doesn't remember this… do you?"

Izuku shrugged. "Yes, but for me the memory is vague, like a secondhand retelling. That's the way it is for Exalted though: we have memories of lives we've never touched, or people we've never met. We can recall them, but we know we weren't there."

She marveled at him. "Memories of… you make it sound like you can remember past lives."

His smile seemed sad. "Exactly that. Too many."

Ochako was still confused. "But… I mean. Ok, you have memories of past lives, and you remember things that Izuku-in-there doesn't, at least not right now. None of that explains how I'm physically holding some of your memories."

The gold-hued blade manifested in Izuku's hand. "This. This knife lets me cut emotions and memories. I can choose whether those endure as physical objects… or whether they are lost forever. This is what the demons fear I can do to them. They're immortal, but they're not immune to being lobotomized."

Ochako gasped in shock at the thought. This whole time she thought Izuku was killing these things… but this was far worse, far crueler. He was taking their emotions and memories away. No weights, no chains, none of that manifested with those previous battles. That meant that whatever bits of their identity he cut from those demons were gone forever. She didn't want to feel pity for these monsters but had to admit that this felt sickening to her. Mentally disfiguring the enemy instead of killing them seemed like torture, not warfare. "That's… a terrible power. It's awful."

He nodded, validating her feelings of disgust. "It is. The first person I was forced to use this on… was myself." He gazed over to the shell resting near them. "I'm no longer completely sure what I had to cut out of my own head… I just know that whatever is left, I was willing to risk my life to keep."

She was shocked into silence. He was forced to cut into his own thoughts and feelings. Her mind boggled, rejecting any way she could even imagine this. She wanted to empathize, to reach out to him, but was at a complete loss. She had never heard of anything like this before, of a hostage forced to scar themselves at the whim of their captors, and even then, just so that their lives could be spared. That was the extent of her imagination. When she tried to reach beyond from physical injuries to the mental ones, her mind hit a wall. "I'm so sorry, Izuku." Was the best she could do as she floundered for something more meaningful to say. "That must have been terrible."

His sad smile never left his face. "It's just more motivation to make sure… for me to fight against these things so they can't reach the rest of you."

The rest of you, he said. Already she could see that he was holding himself apart from her and the remainder of humanity. He clearly no longer felt human. With everything he had been through and was still going through, as little as she understood of it, she could not blame him. However, she could disagree. "You're still one of us, you know. We're in this fight together, even if most of us are stubborn idiots."

A sharp exhale from his nose, the short-lived exhaust of a chuckle, was his reply. She could see, almost taste, the witty remark he was going to shoot back at her. She never would learn what he was going to reply with, as a sharp pulse of electrified power traveled along the chain and jolted Izuku into action.

Eyes wide with alarm, Izuku turned sharply at the keening sound of crystals stretching and growing along the links of his chain, extending out from the Chrysalis. They moved rapidly, coating the chain in ice-like crystals before dancing internally with their own opal-esque fires. Moving faster than Ochako could think, Izuku lashed out, cutting away at the chain before the crystals could reach out to touch his heart.

The consequences were harsh and immediate.

He stumbled, his grace and poise from before gone in an instant, and then fell to hit the ground. He tried at first to fall into a kneeling position but failed at even maintaining that.

Ochako cried with alarm, calling out his name as she rushed to his side. Momentarily forgotten, the memory-stone and the short chain attached to it clattered to the ground next to her. She quickly cradled his head into her lap, turning him to face up toward the sky. "Izuku, stay with me! What's happening?!"

"Kick the chain away…" he barely whispered to her, as though he had no strength. "It can't touch… the stone… or me…"

She batted it away with her hands, refusing to get up from her position as Izuku's support on the ground. The thing looked nothing like it did earlier. It was no longer a golden chain of light, but instead a crystalized mass, becoming rigid, inflexible, and alien to look at. Her Quirk ensured that it did not land anywhere nearby.

"Miss Uraraka?" the voice of Midnight rang out from within her earpiece. "What's happening over there?"

"I don't know… Iz… Midoriya collapsed!" Ochako tried to organize her thoughts better. "He cut the chain connecting him to the shell and then…" She watched with eye-glazing horror as the Izuku's luminous body faded a bit, growing darker and more transparent before her eyes. "He lost his strength… and it's like he's disappearing…"

Midnight comforted her from the other side of town, her voice the only thread connecting them. "Are you in a safe location? Can you get off the street and hide somewhere while we move to intercept? We can regroup and…"

"No." Izuku spoke up, barely a whisper, but to Ochako he might as well have shouted in her ear. Nothing was as important to her in that moment than the man laying, possibly dying, in her arms. "Demons will be heading this way soon. Uraraka… you should head north, out of their way. Cross the river… take the memory-stone with you."

"Shut up… both of you." She blurted the words out before thinking them through. "Midoriya… Izuku… stay with me!" she lightly slapped his face, dismayed at how soft it felt, like the forces holding him together were growing weaker by the moment. "Tell me what's happening to you!"

He gasped for air, but his chest refused to rise. "The chain… it's like an umbilical cord. Without it I have no connection to… him, to Izuku… I'm dying without it. Without that connection… my memories won't even get back to him…"

Wet tears fell onto his face. Ochako did not care that she was crying. She allowed the sadness and rage within her to roil and coalesce together. "Why?! Why would you cut something so important?!" her fist struck the ground near his head, bruising her knuckles on the asphalt.

He had the nerve to smile up at her weeping face. "I can't let the Yozis know… they can't get my memories… or his… we can't let that happen, or it's all over. They'll rewrite anything… they don't like… make me… a monster…"

She gasped, suppressing more tears. He did this, this stupid suicidal act… just to save… everyone. He knew that he was the last line of defense, and he did this to himself just so that the enemy couldn't turn him against humanity.

Ochako refused to give up on him. "Izuku… tell me how this works. Anything… I need to see if there's a way to help. You said your memories won't return… are you… the same person… and… is there a way to keep you going? I…" she wasn't sure just what to ask, and her breathing became rushing, ragged, panting breaths of panic.

"Hush…" he breathed. It looked like it was painful for him to take in air. "I'm… part of him. A feeling… like how… your love for your parents… is part of you… but when I die… that part will be lost."

Shaking her head, Ochako refused to accept this situation. "There has to be a way! You just need essence, right? That's what gives you power, life, right?"

Gritting her teeth, she moved her wrist to be within a hair's breadth from Izuku's mouth… and his elongated fangs. "Take as much essence as you need! All of me if that's what it takes! Just… don't die on me! Please… don't leave me alone here!"

The sensitive skin on her wrist felt his lips curl up into a short-lived smile, one that she couldn't see. "Not that kind of essence… I'm… not a vampire… but thanks…" he took another labored breath.

Ochako couldn't look down at him anymore, casting her gaze about as if looking for answers. Her mistake, her hope, had been a simple misunderstanding. She had misjudged the purpose of his elongated fangs, using them as flimsy evidence for an unspoken theory. Chi, the Japanese word that Izuku had used to explain the concept of essence, could also be used to describe blood. Ochako's mistake was to assume that the multiple meanings of the word were interchangeable. Chi could be many things, from invisible energy, to blood, to even breath…

Wait, breath?

"Do you need air? Would that help?" she looked down at his shining face, now dimmer and darker than ever before. His eyes and mouth were clearly visible, but the rest of his face was fading so quickly, she could barely make out his jawline.

"Air… anima… use essence to breathe…" he struggled, trying to answer her.

It was all the answer that she needed. Gently, she moved from underneath him, taking his head off her lap and settling him flat on the asphalt. His head and hair were heavy before, but now seemed achingly light, a feather of weightlessness. Kneeling over him, Ochako inhaled deeply, pressed her lips to his, and exhaled fresh air into him.

The soft glow that greeted her, the light in his eyes, was all the confirmation that she needed. Her actions did not restore him to his former strength. She had no plan beyond simply breathing life into him, as many times as was needed. This man had saved her father, and now Uraraka Ochako was going to save him. She was going to keep Midoriya Izuku alive.

She ignored her own discomfort, the dried blood soaked in her hair and clothes, the bruises on her knees and knuckles. Ochako tuned out her surroundings, the pleading silence of Midnight, the world on the other end of her ear wanting to understand what was happening. The anima banner around her, flooding the area with light, dimmed, but she paid it no mind. She repeated the action, losing count of her own breaths as she grew lightheaded, focusing on the task of keeping air in Izuku's lungs, doing everything she could just to keep him alive.

Her peripheral vision did however pick up a significant interruption.

It was tall, a wolf-like creature made of smoke and ash. Trailing plumes wandered off its skin as it strode forward defiantly into Izuku's light. The hound would easily stand as tall as Ochako's shoulder if she was standing. Kneeling next to Izuku, she was at an ideal height for it to sink its teeth into her flesh.

"Run…" Izuku barely whispered. "Please…"

Ignoring him, Ochako inhaled sharply and ducked down to breath hard into Izuku's lungs. She clamped her eyes shut, bracing for whatever came next.


	17. Will-Crushing Force

{}

Arcs of lightning shot through Izuku even as lasers etched through his skin. The Whispering Flame did not care for his pain or his screams. To her they were background irrelevancies. The lightning was purely to remove motor control from Izuku, placing his muscles firmly under her command. The lasers allowed her to cut into his flesh with painstaking precision, even as she probed through his mind.

Drool collected on Izuku's mouth, messily coating the lower half of his face and trailing down his neck. Izuku was overcome by his own near-metallic stench. Dried blood caked onto his skin. His eyes stung with a mixture of tears and blood. His throat was raw from screaming. That was over now, though. He no longer controlled his own voice, immobilized by the electrified power that coursed through him.

Izuku was stripped of the means. He could no longer express himself or vent his pain.

She did nothing to anesthetize these sensations. The Great Sphere cared nothing for his discomfort, though she did not derive enjoyment from it either. However, she needed his mind to be completely awake for her questions. She rifled through his memories like they were pages in a book, a book that she was ripping to pieces as she sought out the one passage needed for her research.

Bitterly, he wanted to laugh as he heard the cascade of whispers. Voiceless and powerless, his vitriol festered within his gut. He was forced to listen as a thousand whispers coalesced together, flooding his thoughts, uttering the results of their search.

They rattled off the names of the various Charms he had collected, names he had yet to learn. Essence Overwhelming, one was called. Another was Essence Triumphant. Transcendent Desert Creature. None of these epithets explained the function or purpose of anything to him. They were just fancy titles. Occasionally the Whispering Flame would remark if a Charm was uncommon among the other Princes.

Freedom Lets Go.

He had heard this one before. Adorjan had whispered those words to him before he cut away at… which memory was it? He had sliced the chain cleanly away but could no longer recall why or what was attached on the other end of it. If not the physical threat to his own life, he might pause with existential dread over what he had done to himself.

Apparently, an entire cascade of Charms descended from that one, from Freedom Lets Go. It was an avenue of spiritual pursuit that few among the Princes dared to tread. "Uncommon Charm. Source: Adorjan, the Silent Wind. Low Estimated Utility." was repeated by the Great Sphere several times as she examined the Charms that Adorjan had thrust upon him.

"Heart Cutting Edge. Uncommon Charm. Source: Adorjan. Low Estimated Utility." So that's what it was called, he thought. He just thought of it as his knife. Unfortunately, her statement was punctuated by another shock of electric energy, followed by intense heat and cold in quick succession. The good news was that She Who Lives in Her Name was repairing the damage as quickly as she was inflicting it, but Izuku could hardly count anything as good news after his entire body had been destroyed several times over.

He was assaulted with the memory of cutting thoughts and feelings away as he was carried up by Adorjan. He could feel a thousand eyes explore the memory with him, poring over every detail, every gut-wrenching decision as he weighed one facet of himself or another against his own instinct to survive. He felt sick to his stomach, either from pain or from the invasion into his mind. He could feel her probing his emotions, from his connection to his mother to his longheld desire to become a hero. Unlike Cecelyne, who tried to manipulate him, or Adorjan who tested him with her deadly test-prompts… the Whispering Flame merely catalogued him with the cold indifference of an inventory manifest.

Did she even need to physically tear him apart while perusing his memories? Probably not, he thought bitterly.

Still, he was awake in her grasp, laying on the force-field operating table of her burning willpower. He forced his spiritual third eye open wide, studying her as best he could as he bore through the pain of her ministrations. As she searched through him for answers, he examined her to satisfy needs of his own. Izuku did not remember the conversation that lead him to do this, but it was somehow expected that the Whispering Flame would find him, and that he would need to be at her mercy for this plan to work… to have even an ice cube's chance in hell, he had to bear through this.

He opened doors within his mind, inviting her in deeper and deeper, giving her unrestricted access to the inner world he had made for himself. He distracted her with his hopes and dreams as he reached forward, picking the pockets of the surgeon even as the obsessive doctor did her work. A palm trick of the mind, he recalled someone had called it that… who he could not say, and why he was doing this was a fog not worth sifting through. All he knew was that he desperately needed her power.

Not just any power that the Whispering Flame had, as there were many Charms he could pick from. He needed something specific. If he grabbed more than was needed, things would be ok… but if he missed… then everyone and everything that he loved would… would what?

The pain was severe enough to cause delusions. He swore he could hear another voice, one just like his own, whispering to him. "Don't worry about why… don't let yourself feel the pain… just reach in and feel for the tools of the mind. Think of them as coins… no… keys to a lock. There are five specific ones that you need. Reach for them, one at a time…"

Was he talking to himself now? Could the Great Sphere hear him? No matter, he just had to reach…

Izuku could feel her probing beyond his mind into his soul. It was the most uncomfortable sensation he had ever experienced, though not the most painful. He felt like he was being stabbed while numb. The knowledge of what was happening felt worse than the sensation itself. "Anomalous Charm Identified. Divided Chakra Shintai. Indexed as a God-Body Subclassification. Heresy. The Charm is not of Primordial Origin." The numerous whispers intoned.

He hoped that she was distracted by her own victory as he grasped onto the first key. Four more… he needed four more to break the lock. He decided not to think about what the lock was, instead focusing on the task and tuning out what the Whispering Flame was doing to him. He wrestled with her for control over his voice, or perhaps she offered him enough slack, "You already searched my mind and I even told you what it does. How is this new information?" he spat blood as he spoke to her.

Would asking her for an explanation slow her down? Would that give him the time he needed?

Her restraint on his movements tightened, as though chains wrapped clingingly to his torso and limbs. "Your own perspective is that of an individual. You lack objective knowledge. More perspective is required. Now that the information has been isolated, our scan of you will be far more precise."

All that Izuku heard when she said "precise" was "painful" as though the two were one and the same. Still, even as he felt laser find needles stabbing into him, he prided himself on palming another key from the surgeon's pocket. Three more, he told himself. He tried not to think about the vivisection, about the fact that he was thieving from someone… something… while so vulnerable. He might as well be splayed open on an operating table with a knife pressed against his heart.

Speaking of his physician, the Whispering Flame altered her methods of vivisection. She did not require any implements. There was no scalpel, no tray of tools or fancy equipment. If a thing could be done crudely with an object, then she could do it better with her obsessive will and intent. When trying to find where her answers lay, she examined Izuku's body with heat and cold, immobilizing him with electric currents even as she cut sections away with lasers so that they could be more easily dissected. She treated the answers she sought with the care of an archaeologist, while Izuku himself was just the dirt wrapped around her precious puzzle. Fittingly, her newest psychic tool made Izuku think of a modified drill, albeit one made from light and sound.

The drill wasn't for Izuku's body. It was for his mind and soul. Even as she eased up on damaging his physical form, the Great Sphere bore down onto Izuku's willpower, torturing his mind with repeated torments. He flailed helpless, lost in visions. His mother, dead. His school, burned. His heroes turned villainous. She treated every single hope, dream, and ambition that he had as another entry point, a way to drill down into his core nature and lay it bare for her examinations. He knew that the visions were false, even as he felt the pavement from his suicidal leap hit him not once but many times over.

It's not real, he reminded himself. Reach past it. Get another one. She's not looking. The surgeon is staring past your hands and looking inside your brain. She's past surface thoughts. She's drilling to our core… the thought was maddening, yet he almost cried with twisted joy as he felt another key fall into his grasp.

Just two more, he thought, even as his eyes cried tears of blood. Gritting his teeth, he realized that he was salivating blood as well.

Bracing himself for more, he was caught off guard when the pain stopped.

Horror gripped his heart when he reached backward into his mind, grasping to see what she was staring at. And there it was. The fragmented explanation of his new Charm… the haphazard desire to save his birth world… the imperative to obey the Yozis and find a way to save his world from their grasp at the same time. Everything, what little he still remembered of it, was visible to her.

"The Charm has been documented. The means by which you were instructed remains unclear. However, it is now apparent that the memory has been excised from you. Based on your existing panoply of Charms, you are the most likely suspect to have cut the memory from your own mind. I therefore posit the question to you: did you cut the memory from your mind?" She probed at him, not with tools or lighting but with sharp mental focus.

Defeat. He knew it was not possible to tell a lie to the Whispering Flame. "I did." He admitted his crime to her.

"Interesting. Tell us why you removed this memory." The Great Sphere asked, her voices were calm. Sedate. Was she trying to lull him? After torturing him?

The connection between their minds was still there. He could feel it, could see she was still poring over the memory in his core. He brought his own attention to the surface, to stare at her openly even as he felt around with his outstretched mind… searching the pockets for another key, he reminded himself.

"The memory… something about it frightened me. I was afraid that the Primordials would see it and… and that I wouldn't be able to prove my loyalty to them… to show my gratitude for the power I've been given." He knew that he had to speak only true statements. Technically, these qualified. Could he sneak past her on such technicalities?

He felt the key in his grasp and took it, hoping that she would not notice. He told himself that there was just one more…

"You are attempting to deceive your masters. You are attempting to deceive the Primordial Host. You are attempting to deceive us, the Whispering Flame." She was not asking but stating the charge. Her grip on his body and mind became less clinical, the pain less precise.

Damn it. He was so close.

One slip, one wrong word, and Izuku would die right here in this moment. He recoiled within himself, drawing the power of his mind away from hers for fear of being caught rummaging through her power. "Deceit is not my goal. I'm not rebelling. I will fulfill my mission and advance the cause of the Great Reclamation."

Her voice rang out clearly like a crystal bell in his ears. "True. False. True." By her will his body floated closer and closer to the Great Sphere as smaller ones orbited around him. "Curious. Your goal is not to deceive, yet you intend to rebel. Paradoxically, you have every intention of following our command to advance the Great Reclamation. Resolve this dissonance."

Caught. Trapped. How would he explain himself to her satisfaction? "I will never have the power to defy the Primordials. Rebellion is out of the question… but…"

"But?" she asked with needle-like focus. The opal fires burned brighter within her crystal spheres.

"I want to petition for the Primordials… for the great King, Malfeas… to change his mind. My birth-world is one among many countless worlds. I wish to see it spared." There it was. The technical core of his plan. The remainder of it rested in a cut away memory out of his grasp.

"You are on a fool's quest. The King will not be swayed. All worlds will bow to the will of Malfeas. There will be no exceptions. Nonetheless, you have cut away a vital memory. You are attempting to deceive us and our King…" she held him, locked in her fiery gaze. "We will now move on from vivisection to execution, followed by forensic dissection."

Her laser drill spun threateningly as it approached his face. Everything so far had been for nothing. All the cunning of Cecelyne at his disposal, and this was still the end result.

The drill stopped to a shuddering halt a mere centimeter from his face, it's light blinding his eyes. He could feel it's heat wash over his skin. Something had given pause to the Whispering Flame.

The sky above him darkened. Night. Somehow, in this mad desert-world of eternal sunlight, the Whispering Flame was awash in darkness. Cool crisp air flooded around Izuku's bronze-burned skin as warmth retreated from the world around him. The drill that about to kill him dissipated into fractal light patterns before withdrawing into the surrounding spheres…

And then Izuku saw it… saw him.

Eight kilometers long, the Ebon Dragon cast a terrible shadow, blotting out the light of the Green Sun. Graceful and languid, his black serpentine body seemed to slither through the air. No wings held him aloft. The Shadow of All Things interjected himself into the orbital patterns of the Whispering Flame, playfully casting aside several larger spheres as he descended to observe Izuku with void black eyes.

"You are being wasteful, dear sister. This is our newest asset. He is chosen by Ligier, the heart of our King… let us not gainsay the will of His Majesty." His words flowed out slowly, smoothly. His voice was deep, rich, and venomous. It rang out from his inhuman throat even as the words bubbled up from within Izuku's heart, a whisper reverberating through his bones. He was both alien yet familiar.

"He is attempting to deceive us, Shadow." The whispering cacophony of crystal voices clipped back.

"Please. Say it properly. I am the Shadow of All Things. It is in your nature to respect your elders, is it not?" he politely yet condescendingly prodded her even as he interjected himself between the Great Sphere and Izuku. At his speed it would take an hour to approach where his head was currently passing.

The Great Sphere rose higher as though to look over the Dragon's head. "Irrelevant. Regardless of how or who Ligier chose, this human is defective. It is utilizing its free will in order to deceive the Primordials."

A low baritone chuckle preluded the Dragon's reply. "Ah. You still blame me for that invention? Regardless, free will is needed now in order to solve our… little problem." He kept an eye on Izuku as he spoke, yet still directed all his words towards the Whispering Flame.

"I do however see your… concern." The Shadow of All Things condescended. "Rather than be so… inefficient and wasteful… why not let me pry open the cage of his mind? I have a talent for these things… deceptions… lies…"

"You mean false statements." She Who Lives in Her Name stated flatly.

The Dragon ignored the remark and turned his attention fully onto Izuku's helpless position. His gaze was predatory. Izuku, though relieved that he was still breathing, did not see the Dragon's arrival as good news. Somehow, he knew that this creature was the most dangerous in all Malfeas to Izuku's goals.

Where the Whispering Flame could examine Izuku for answers, the Ebon Dragon could rifle through his memories and completely overwrite them. Everything that made Izuku who he was, everything that he had saved of himself from Adorjan… all of it was now in danger. Death at the hands of the Great Sphere seemed preferable to becoming a monster of the Dragon's dark designs.

The Dragon chuckled, either at the Whispering Flame's naivety or Izuku's obvious discomfort. "Yes, sister. False statements… who better to root out such deception than the Father of Lies?"

{}

Iida Tenya both anticipated and dreaded their destination. Kamui Woods was leading all of them directly to Tensei's body. Was Tenya ready for this? Knowing that his brother was gone hurt worse than anything Tenya had ever felt. How would he feel once he personally saw his brother's remains?

They were less than a block's journey away. At last they saw the pair of apartment buildings where it all started, where All Might and the other heroes had battled Sondok. Where another demon had captured the Support Corps and held them hostage.

Where Ingenium had died. Been killed. Murdered. By Sondok.

Everything was quiet. Abandoned. The battle here had ended hours ago. Hero and hostage alike were long gone. The sorcerous bridge constructed by the demons remained after only being used once, as though cast off after fulfilling its purpose. The fact that Tensei's body was still there spoke volumes about the psychological dread that permeated the hero and support community. Everyone was afraid of walking into a trap.

Kamui Woods had warned them all that this mission was dangerous. He had given them all the option of staying behind. None of them had volunteered, not even Miss Utsushima or the child in her arms. It was safer to remain together. Even if they were heading towards the enemy, they wouldn't do it alone.

The pro-hero focused hard, creating a long wooden bridge that the rest of them used to cross over onto the rooftop. Yoarishi had taken point, while Kirishima had acted as a rearguard for the group. Utsushima and the child in her arms were the guarded core of their group along with Tenya, the only teenager present that had not been deputized. Kamui Woods followed, propelling himself onto the roof alongside them by retracting the bridge back into himself while maintaining his grip of the other building.

For most of them, arriving here was an anticlimax. The crown was gone, defeating the purpose of their arrival. Presumably it had been taken away by the enemy. There was little left to do but to pay respects to Ingenium and then depart quickly.

Hours past his death, Ingenium's body had inevitably relaxed. His various cells, many living long past his own functional death, had finally given up on his remaining dignity. Inevitably, as many corpses before him had done, he had soiled himself. He reeked of blood and feces. His face, long exposed to the night air, had a haunting green pallor cast across it from the aurora above.

His rational mind warned Tenya to hold back to the rear of the group, but he could not. Compelled by his own sense of loss, Tenya surged forward on possessed limbs to place himself near his brother's remains. He cried quietly, failing to take note of his own tears even as they made a mess of his glasses.

Kirishima stirred, noticing something amiss. Concerned, he couldn't help but speak up. "Hey… bro… are you… You look a lot like him. You wouldn't be… Are you related to Ingenium?"

Before Tenya could think up a convincing story, he found himself face to face with Kamui Woods. The pro-hero did not appear pleased. "Ingenium… Iida Tensei… has a younger brother. Are you him… are you Iida Tenya?"

Tenya was too ashamed to speak. His silence was reply enough in their eyes.

"Why did you lie to us? You gave a fake name back there… but you left your given name, Tenya in the mix." He folded his arms, waiting impatiently for an answer.

"I…" Tenya wished he could have a moment with his brother, a last goodbye, rather than this conversation. "I don't know… I just… I was afraid."

"Dude… bro…" Kirishima obviously felt bad for the guy. His brother's corpse was a few meters away and here he was being confronted…

"You were afraid that if we knew who you were that we'd take your safety into consideration and make sure you were escorted out of the city… is that it?" Kamui Woods accused him, sharply… accurately.

It was like a slap to the face, and worse, one that Tenya felt he deserved. "Yes sir… I… wanted to see my brother…"

The older hero sighed, taking in the sight of the broken young man and the nearby remains of his brother. "I get it, I really do. However, you can't just go off on personal missions of grief. When your emotions take over and cloud your judgment it compromises the safety of the entire team. A hero needs to think beyond just himself and objectively assess the emergency, prioritizing lives over all other considerations…"

"Excuse me, sir… uh… Kamui Woods, sir…" the spiky haired teen Kirishima interjected himself, holding his hands up placatingly. "I get it. Him lying to us all was wrong… but the thing is… he's not a hero. His brother was… an awesome hero. But it's a tall order to expect a high schooler… you're a high schooler like me, right?"

After receiving a curt nod from Tenya, Kirishima continued. "Expecting a high schooler to behave completely like a professional hero when the situation is so personal to them… I'm not saying that what he did was right, but he does deserve a bit of slack. It's not like he agreed to be a deputy under you. He was just at the right place and the right time and was trying to rescue that kid when we found him. That has to count for something… is all."

"Are you done interrupting and rambling?" the taller teen, Yoarishi, spoke up. "Because look, whether he lied or told the truth, we'd all still end up here. The safety of one or two civilians in addition to the deputies didn't weigh enough against the possible value of this reconnaissance. One of those civilians being a VIP wouldn't have changed that result either, because no life outweighs that of a child. He could have, if not for the rush of activity, been asked to continue with us as another deputy under Kamui Woods. None of us will ever know if he would have corrected his fake name or continued as a deputy with such a pretense. It's useless to even ask. Setting aside that he's out here endangering himself, lying about his identity was uncalled for…"

"I know it was wrong!" Tenya spat out the words, forcing his body stiffly downward into a sharply angled bow. Tears welled up from his eyes and fell like rain, spotting and marring his glasses. "It was wrong of me to run past the checkpoints! It was wrong of me to come to Musutafu! It was wrong to lie to all of you! But… I didn't know what else to do! I had to come and see my brother! I must take him to the hospital morgue… and to tell his wife… I have to be the one to tell her that she's a widow because if I don't go there in person then she'll see it on the news once she'd done with her surgeries!"

He still held back. His thirst for revenge. His feelings of helplessness to quench that thirst. He even kept a lid on how the name he had given them was the maiden name of his brother's widow, denying to himself any reason for choosing it save for a lack of imagination. "Please… if I could just have a moment to say goodbye…" he asked, pleaded, eyes cast downward with his face and torso in a bow far deeper than anyone else thought was called for.

Iida's heartfelt confession, incomplete as he felt it was, was well received. There was no time for a reply though, not with the sudden interruption of a blood curdling scream.

Shocked, the four men stood alert and turned to see that Utsushima Camie in grave danger. The child had twisted in her arms into an oil slicked abomination, a faceless, pliant shadow creature. It moved with alarming speed and precision. The thing ravaged its way from her grasp, injuring her with deep gashes from its knife-like talons. Climbing rapidly over her shoulder, the monster sliced into her flesh as it moved onto her back. Descending rapidly, the thing lashed out at her ankles, precisely cutting at them to extract her shadow away from her body.

Rows of tiny black teeth extended from an oily, featureless face. Aptly named, the Shadow Eater bit hard onto Camie's shadow, claiming it as an ephemeral meal as it scurried away with its prize. The gloom extended from its makeshift maw, appearing as shade on the rooftop.

"Utsushima!" Kamui Woods called out, reaching out to grab her and the offending monster with treelike limbs. The pro hero caught the young woman as gently as possible before she could fall to the ground, but the creature absconding away wriggled through branch after branch like an oil slick across running water.

Roaring in frustration and anger, Yoarishi unleashed a torrent of violent air at the creature, buffeting it off balance. The thing clung down hard onto the rooftop, partially sinking in. It barely slowed down as it made way for the sorcerous bridge. Tenebrous shades flickered off the creature's body as the lights from the bridge-sigils lit its dark features from below.

Without thinking, Iida Tenya and Kirishima Eijiro rushed forward. The redhead surged towards his fallen companion, taking her into his arms from the branches of Kamui Woods. Immediately he settled her onto the rooftop so that he could raise her legs up and apply pressure to her ankles, stemming a tide of blood that threatened to leave her body. Already he was standing in a small pool of her lifeblood.

Tenya had no time to take in Kirishima's triage of Utsushima, to listen to the words he used to help her calm down. He did not know how severe her injuries were. His focus was entirely on the creature making its escape, a monster that he did not understand. He did not know how vital a shadow is to a human's mind and soul, only that this thing had somehow stolen one before his eyes and was running away with it.

His feet beat a clamorous and confident path on that bridge of light and stone, but he didn't pay heed to the distance below. Tenya focused on the creature retreating from him. It moved much faster than his companions could keep up with… but not faster than Iida Tenya. He called on his Quirk, stoking the fires in his engines as he built up speed from deep within his legs.

This little fucker was not getting away, not with Iida Tenya chasing it down.

The abandoned apartment was strewn with equipment in various stages of disrepair. Garish green light from the aurora created eerie umbral figures that danced across the walls. The monster sought refuge in one such shadow as it chewed on its stolen meal, as though hoping to force its prey down its gullet before it was caught and attacked. How extreme could its gnawing hunger be that it cared more about fulfillment than safety?

It never got past the first few solid bites.

Enraged, Tenya flew at the creature. With a single hard kick, he injured his own foot, yet that was a small price to pay as he watched the monsters head burst like and over pressured oil-drum. The creature fell over, its neck spilling out a black inky substance across the already ruined floor. The claws went limp, dropping its meal down where it looked like a stain on the floor, a permanent shadow with no object interceding against the light.

Tenya knelt, first confirming his kill as he wiped a smudge of splattered ink-blood from his glasses, then reaching to grab up Utsushima's shadow from the floor.

His fingers could not grasp it. Alarmed, he clawed ruthlessly at the floor, threatening to wear down his fingernails as he tried to pry the intangible umbral-stain from the floor. Unfortunately, humans have no means to pick up shadows.

He hadn't noticed Kamui Woods or young Yoarishi enter the room, not until the younger man pushed Tenya away from the tenebrous floor-stain. Yoarishi continued with frantic attempts. Yet even those aided by the power of the wind proved fruitless. Roaring in frustration, his efforts remained futile. His anxiety, shared with Kamui Woods, revealed that Tenya's instincts were at least correct: getting this shadow back to Utsushima was important, he just didn't understand yet how bad this peculiar form of injury could be.

Kamui Woods attempted to grow a tree limb into the floor itself, as though to force the shadow to be cast onto the outstretched branch. The umbral shape simply slipped off as though water on a windshield. Again, he made the attempt, having already made more progress than the two younger men. With each outgrowth he destroyed more of the floor, until the thing slipped not only from his wooden reach but through a hole down into the apartment below.

The older hero bore through this stoically even as Yoarishi grunted his frustration, as though to vocalize what all three of them were feeling. Tenya, exhausted from how intense his emotions had been running him, leaned back from where the young deputy had shoved him.

His hand brushed against something solid and heavy. Turning, he saw a small white statue lay on the floor next to his hand. Curiosity compelled him to pick it up. As he turned it over, the white surface revealed a vaguely feminine figure made of salt. A long trail of dried blood coated the surface as though the thing had cried a single tear of ultimate anguish.

"What in the world?" he asked aloud.

Turning at the unexpected question, Kamui Woods tensed when he saw what Tenya was holding. "Iida, calmly and carefully hand that over to me."

Yoarishi froze, watching as Kamui Woods slowly extended his hand out to where Tenya was nearly prone on the floor. Tenya, for his part, did not fully comprehend the gravity of the situation.

"What is it?" Tenya asked, slowly tensing his abdomen so that he could sit up, carefully handling the object as though it were a bomb.

"An idol… the one Midoriya Inko used… to pray to the enemy god. If that thing is powerful enough to force a ceasefire, then it had to have been left here as a trap… so please… hand that over to me carefully." Kamui implored the younger man.

Tenya thought quickly yet analytically. The enemy had a god. The god of these monsters. The murderer that killed his brother. The creature that ripped Utsushima's shadow from her body. The same god that ruled these alien horrors had enforced a ceasefire… what else might it do?

Ignoring the shouts around him to the contrary, Iida Tenya drew the idol closer to his chest, closed his eyes… and prayed.

{}

Iida Tenya was severely mistaken.

Cecelyne, whose name he did not know, was far more than a god. Gods are spiritual beings that the Primordials made in the image of their deva servants. To the likes of Cecelyne gods are difficult to tell apart from mortals, and both are as small as mere grains of sand. Every now and then, a singular prayer shines with potential, absorbing enough of her attention that she grants the miniscule supplicant her full attention. Her terrible attention.

Tenya found himself standing amid wrecked pillars of salt and stone, a circular structure that had long since fallen to ruin as it gave way to the eroding desert around it. The merciless fury-heat of the Green Sun beat down upon him, judging him as a worthless piece of human chattel. Far on the horizon was a storm of crystals and black lighting wrapped around a glowing emerald heart. A far more immediate concern though was the desert all around him, a dry desolation that stretched farther than his own imagination could comprehend.

"Are you here?!" he shouted, creating echoes among the dunes. "Are you the god of… the devas?" he struggled for the words, trying to remember snippets from the news earlier yesterday.

He turned this way and that, looking for any sign of life, intelligent or otherwise. Could anything live out here for long?

"I am here." She stated proudly. Her meaning was double edged, but Tenya was not aware enough to understand that. He did not comprehend that a being could be both person and place. That kind of thought would be dismissed by his human rationality.

Turning again, he saw her. She was an imperiously tall woman. Her skin was black like charcoal. Her eyes though were pale, almost silver in color. She was adorned with jewelry from head to toe, a priest-queen of the desert. Fine linen was wrapped about her, providing bare modesty in balance against the heat that radiated through this bone-dry place. He could not tell too many details though as she stood with the sun to her back, granting her an aura of dreadful and radiant authority. Her expression was shadowed. She could be glaring at him or smiling for all he knew.

Between them was a long stone altar. To the woman's right lay Tenya's brother. Tenya knew better than to ask how his brother's body came to rest here, considering that he himself wasn't clear on how he got to here… or where here is. On her left a large basalt chalice rested on the altar. It was filled with an oily black substance that appeared to be both liquid and ephemeral smoke.

Tenya ponders what to ask. "My name is Iida Tenya. You have my brother on your altar. May I ask your name?"

The woman's gaze does not waver. The answer he expects does not come from her. "I am Cecelyne. I am the Endless Desert. I am the Arbiter of Prayer." He turns to the source of the sound and finds another altar is behind him. This one is stained with the blood of countless sacrifices. A gigantic idol of salt lay just beyond the altar depicting a woman with three eyes. There was no one there to explain where the voice had come from.

Still he latched onto her words. "If prayer is what you desire, I'll give it. I have much I'd ask you for…"

"I know the many desires of your heart, human child." The voice rang out, once again from behind. He turned to face the woman and his brother. She held out her hands, gesturing to both the corpse and the chalice. "I am generous, you will find. That bounty is not limitless, though. Unlike the one who came to me earlier… you are not as resolved on which favor to ask for. Know this, though: I have deemed you worthy to ask me for one… and only one." The voice once again came from behind him, and he resolved not to turn.

Tenya swallowed hard; his throat was parched just from standing in this heat. If he understood correctly then he was being offered an impossible choice. He could get his brother back or he could restore the shadow to that woman, Utsushima. Normally this would be an easy choice. He'd choose his brother of course. However, Tenya felt responsible for Utsushima's injuries. He was the one that passed that shadow eating monster into her arms.

"Is there no way I can convince you to offer up both to me?" Tenya pleaded.

"I do not find you worthy of both. You can only afford one." Cecelyne stated flatly.

Afford. This would not be free. "What is your price for these favors?" He had to know. Perhaps this decision would be made when he heard what each would cost him.

Cecelyne's arms came together as though to embrace him from across the altar and the sands interceding between them. "I ask for nothing. I ask for everything. And when I ask, you will provide and perform, returning favor for favor." The riddle-answer did not satisfy him, but it was enough to deduce that she would not charge for this immediately but keep an owed favor as outstanding debt. He had assumed that the price for bringing back the dead would be significantly higher than restoring someone's health, but that apparently was not the case.

Now that he knew otherwise, he knew what his decision would be. He hated himself for it.

His fists clenched with anger as he bowed low, not knowing any other way to make such an outlandish entreaty. "Then if you are offering, Lady Cecelyne… then please give me back my brother! I need him in my life! The world needs Ingenium back!"

Before he knew what was happening, he felt her hand weigh down on the back of his head. It was cool, yet not comforting. "Accept then my generosity, human, with a prayer to my name in your heart and on your lips."

His eyes were to dry to cry with the wellspring of emotion that flooded up within him. He loathed that he was abandoning someone for his own selfishness, but he had to continue… for his brother! "I accept your generosity, Lady Cecelyne. Please give my brother back to me! Please restore my brother to life!"

The woman moved with sudden and shocking violence. Tenya found himself slammed onto his back, knocking all the air from his lungs. Panicking, he cast his gaze about. He was laying back on the altar that was behind himself.

The one coated in dried blood.

"What is this? What are you doing?" Tenya struggled. He found it impossible to rise from his position. Somehow when she pinned him down, she had stung him with something. He felt a welt forming on his forehead where he guessed a needle had pricked into his skin. Horrified by his immobility, he was grateful that he could still move his head though it seemed impossibly heavy.

"I am granting your request, human." She spoke dismissively.

From this vantage he could barely see. Was this what she meant by nothing and everything? Was she going to take his life in trade for his brother? He found an odd sort of peace with that trade… turning his head, he watched with lead in his gut as the chalice with oil and smoke disappeared into a mist of fine sand. The choice had been made. He'd have to live or die by it now.

Then the woman, Cecelyne, turned and with a flick of her wrist, sent a torrent of sands to scour flesh and bone alike off the corpse of Iida Tensei. "What?! No! What are you doing?! Why are you doing this?! I thought we had a deal!" Tenya screamed.

She turned to face him and for the first time he saw that her face was anything but human. Her eyes were silver and salt. Her mouth was filled with molten glass. When she spoke, it was like listening to chimes on the wind. All pretenses of being a relatable deity were now over. "We are fulfilling your request… your first request… we are placing your brother in your life…"

"No…" he shook his head. He tried recalling the words that he had used. How could this be the interpretation of his wish? "I wanted my brother back… I wanted him alive… Please… bring him back to life!"

The dread deity frowned at him, her mouth aglow with molten disappointment. "No," she replied. "The bargain is struck. Learn to appreciate the opportunity you have been given. Few mortals receive so much attention from the Endless Desert."

Before he could object further, Tenya found himself screaming in agony. Cecelyne's silver sands moved rapidly, eroding away the flesh of his arms. In short order his nerves stopped sending signals of pain, yet that only increased his sense of dread. His arms were completely gone, shredded apart at the shoulders. His blood spilled out to join that of so many others on the altar beneath him as the Green Sun beat down on his face.

"Everything that your brother possessed… I gift to you." With that statement, Cecelyne sent the cloud of sand that had eroded Iida Tensei's body onto his younger brother, Tenya. The sands coalesced at his shoulders, and Tenya watched in morbid fascination as his arms were rebuilt before his eyes. The process was quick and extremely painful, but miraculous to behold.

Almost immediately though Tenya could feel a significant difference. A slight bend of the elbows confirmed it. He felt the jet like exhaust-extrusion of his brother's engines in his elbow joint. His triceps were accordingly larger, thicker, pushing his arms to a greater sense of mass than he was used to.

Cecelyne had given him his brother's Quirk.

Tenya's eyes filled with tears, regretting his own foolishness, wondering if he could have worded his prayer better to avoid this outcome. "I wanted… my brother… to live…" he spoke between gritted teeth.

The silver eyed deity looked down at him with something between pity and disgust. She plucked his glasses from his face and cast them aside into the desert, never to be seen again. "You never had anything worth trading for a favor that difficult. We doubt that any human does."

Just when Tenya was about to lament further, he screamed instead while Cecelyne scoured his eyes out from his head. After all, she had agreed to give him everything.

{}


	18. Golden Years Tarnished Black

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To Ochako, Izuku's lips were anything but human. They appeared perfect to the eye, though artificially projected. His lips felt like something between static electricity and hot air. The act of breathing into his holographic lungs made her lightheaded. The sensation helped distract her from the approaching danger.

She didn't have a plan to account for a dog, or perhaps a wolf, of such immense size. Her muscles were tense as she prepared to slap the thing if it got too close. If it were a slap from almost any other woman on the planet then she'd simply concede her defeat as a foregone conclusion. Uraraka Ochako however could slap this beast into orbit if she put her mind to it. Slowly, but surely, it would be sent far away.

It might take her entire arm off with it, but that was a risk Ochako had taken multiple times already when fighting those giant apes… Blood Apes, Izuku had called them.

The canine monstrosity approached. Each step was slow and premeditated, showing tension and cautiousness. Ochako sat back, ready for it. She knew it would lunge forward at any moment, ready to tear her apart. All she needed was a solid strike with her Quirk and the fight would effectively be over.

Alarm flooded through her as Izuku struggled to sit up; the effort was painful to watch. Her heart leapt when she saw just how weak he was. It seemed so wrong after watching him fight so many monsters, so many demons, just an hour ago. His confidence, his laughter, all seemed distant and forgotten now. In a moment of carelessness, she placed her hand behind his back to stop him from falling backward, only to render him weightless.

What a wonderful mistake, she would think later. At that moment though she was horrified by her own error. That moment vanished as Izuku's muscles tensed and pulled his weightless body upright. With no weight pulling him down his own weakness was no longer a handicap. He shouted a single sharp word at the dire wolf, mustering all his strength into his voice.

To Ochako's shock, the wolf froze. If she had not known better, she would have sworn it was a petrified specimen, not a living breathing creature. Then, as Izuku continued to stare the thing down, it backed away and sat like a dog, patiently waiting for the next command.

Sitting up next to her, Izuku used every muscle in his body to balance himself upright as he started to float off the ground. Ochako managed to grab onto his hand and the waistline of his pants before he could appear foolish in front of the shadow-wolf. She was worried about how much energy he was using, how much this act of dominance was depleting him.

Izuku barked out another command. This time the monstrous hound turned away immediately and sauntered toward the coronal edge of the anima-light that surrounded them. Only when the thing's head was clearly out and facing the darkness, only then did Izuku relax his posture and let himself rest in Ochako's arms.

Even weightless, he felt like the mass of the world to her. She looked about and saw that the wolf was sitting out in the darkness… and that the darkness was advancing toward them. The corona was retreating inward. Centimeter by centimeter it withdrew from the world like an outgoing tide. The emerald light that surrounded them was dimming.

Izuku's face and body dimmed even as he rested in her embrace.

He labored to breathe in deeply before speaking. "Ochako… once the anima retreats… I won't last more than a few minutes. There's nothing you can do to stop that. Please. Take the memories I handed you. Run from here. You need to watch out for yourself. Please…" Izuku almost begged. Perhaps, she mused, this was his way of begging.

"No." she interrupted him. Ochako resolved deep inside her soul to stay with him and hold his hand up until the moment that he… she didn't want to complete that thought. Still, she needed a better reason to stay, one that Izuku would accept.

It wasn't hard to scrape that reason together. "Where would I even go? Where would I even be safe? What is the backup plan if we can't get this Chrysalis to Mt. Takao? Is there even a backup plan?"

He shook his head. "There… I don't know Ochako…"

Ochako fought back tears. He was growing more and more translucent. She could clearly see through his face to the street below now.

Izuku reached up to brush his fingers against her cheek. She could barely feel them there. "You're right. There is no backup plan… I just want you to be safe… I'm… I'm afraid."

She pushed lightly, making sure that he rested on the ground and that he wouldn't float away. "What are you afraid of Izuku? After everything I've seen you do, you don't strike me as being afraid of anything."

He smiled at the compliment. It was a beautiful smile, she thought, even if it was also sad.

"I'm afraid of who Izuku will become… I'm afraid that I'm the last part of him that's still Izuku… if that happens, we're all doomed." He admitted, baring himself and his vulnerability to her.

Ochako did not need to be reminded that she was comforting a construct, an artificial being that had done so much for her… saved her… saved her father… She had to repay him. Somehow. She gripped onto his hand and held it to her face. "I believe in you, Izuku. You need to believe in yourself too, ok?"

{}

Izuku awoke in his room. Except that it was not his room.

Sitting up from the bed he observed that everything around him was cast in stark colorless contrast. Blacks, white, greys. There was not one shred of color in the room. Torn posters littered the walls, yet even those were black and white, nearly featureless. A quick glance out the window revealed a bleak colorless world with a black sphere in the sky where there should be a sun. There was no indication where the light came from that lit up the muted grey sky.

Below on the street there were no people. Merely shadows. They walked about as if in a purposeless daze, tugged forward by strings as they made no effort to resist. He dreaded the prospect of opening the door to the rest of the apartment, of seeing what kind of shadow may have replaced his mother.

Izuku consoled himself that this all had to be an illusion. He was in the grasping custody of the Whispering Flame. Perhaps he had finally passed out from the pain? This all seemed too real, too tangible to be a dream though.

Opening the closet door, there were casual clothes there made of tangible shadow-substance. Colorless and drab as they were, they were better options than his near-constant state of undress. Surprisingly everything was sized to fit his large frame, even though he was taller and bulkier than he was before his transformation into an Exalt. Izuku dressed quickly, caring more for expediency than style.

Walking into the living room was familiar yet wrong. There was the couch and television. There was the small table where he and his mother would eat together. Seated there however, was Izuku.

This dark reflection of himself did not in any way resemble the doppelgangers made by Adorjan. It did not have his enhanced height, tan, or muscular frame. It was his older weaker self, twisted into something… perverse. The copy had pale skin, muted grey-green hair, and a slender build that was accentuated with fine clothes. It was better dressed than Izuku had ever been in his whole life. A green tie. White linen shirt. A vest so dark green it was nearly black. The jacket and slacks were so dark that they seemed to be made of shadows. If not for the pale skin at his wrists, the gloved hands would bleed into that darkness.

"Prince Izuku. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." The copy rose and bowed per Japanese custom, yet it never wavered in maintaining solid eye contact. Izuku stared into glowing green fires that reflected his own. This was no mere reflection, no shadow like the things outside.

"How shall I address you? Shadow of All Things? Ebon Dragon? Father of Lies? What title would you prefer?" Izuku asked, already surmising the source and architect of the false world he was standing in.

The fake Izuku smiled, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the Dragon smiled, and the puppet copied the gesture. "I have many names. Darkness. Enemy. Nemesis. I have been called all of that and worse. Call me as you like, Prince Izuku."

"Very well." Izuku sat across from his shadowy inversion. "What riddle or test do you have for me, Dragon-sama? What would you have me do?" The Malfean language accommodated the inclusion of a Japanese honorific about as well as a prison houses an inmate. Still, Izuku chose to cut straight to the point, knowing that he was in for pain or worse. He might as well get on to it and stop wasting time on social pleasantries.

"I just want to get to know you better, Prince Izuku… or may I call you Izuku-kun?" the Dragon's puppet asked. The way the shadow emphasized the suffix was not endearing.

"Call me as you like, Dragon-sama." Izuku replied.

"Well then, Izuku-kun… why don't you tell me about your parents for starters. Why did they separate?"

{}

There was no time to provide a solid answer.

Izuku was thrust deep into a memory, reliving it as though it were here in the present.

Light and color invaded his eyes. Reality shifted.

He was small. Powerless. A child. Crying.

His mother was driving him home from the doctor. They had just found out that Izuku was Quirkless. She seemed withdrawn. Cold.

He wanted love. Attention. Comfort. He reached out for her.

"Izuku. I'm trying to focus on the road." She snapped at him.

He bit back his tears as best as he could. He failed. He hadn't developed a Quirk. He had failed his mother, and now she was angry at him.

Eventually they arrived home. He clung to her skirt, desperate for contact. She eventually got down to his level to console him… after a prolonged moment of painful hesitation. It felt less like she wanted to comfort him and more like she was supposed to, like it was an obligation.

{}

The world shifted, relaxing into a bleak colorless inversion of itself. He was once again sitting in his replica living room. The Dragon's version of Izuku sat across from him, a look of pity on his face.

"That's so sad. How did your father take the news?"

Izuku grit his teeth as he was thrust back into his own mind.

{}

Color. Light. Blinding. A small powerless body, a Quirkless child.

His father and mother were yelling at each other. He didn't understand all the words. He was, after all, only four years old. Unfortunately, he understood just enough to piece it together. They were fighting over him. No, not over him. They were arguing over which one of them would be stuck with him.

"I can't have him unattended while I'm at work." His father stated coldly, loudly.

"And how will I pay the bills while I'm watching him?" his mother retorted.

He cried while listening. Izuku was a burden, one that neither of them wanted but that one of them must take on. Worthless. Quirkless. Already a failure at age four.

Days later his father left. For work, he had said. He didn't hug Izuku. It was the last time he saw his father, and there was no paternal embrace.

{}

"That must have been very hard." The Dragon's puppet said, offering what consolation he could.

"I got past it. I kept myself busy… interested in other things. I tried not to think about it." Izuku offered up, as though to deflect the Primordial from offering pity.

"A hobby?" Dragon-Izuku asked.

Izuku shook his head sadly. "Not really. A fascination… with heroes."

"Did your mother encourage you? Did she help foster this interest?" the copy asked. They both already knew the answer.

{}

"You still watch those videos?" Inko asked her son, exasperated that she was interrupted again by his annoyingly insatiable hero-fascination.

"Please mom?" he asked, almost begging. "Again? Please?" he was shocked at how weak and frail his voice sounded, yet the memory rang genuine to his ears.

"This is the twentieth time in less than a week." Inko sighed as she stood up from her seat, setting aside the book she was reading. She quickly pulled the video up on their home computer, finding it in their recently viewed history. "One more time and then you need to go to bed." Her voice was stern.

"Okay. Thank you, mom." Little Izuku hoped she would stick around but she didn't, not even to reply to him. Soon he was alone in his room watching his favorite hero, All Might, rescue a crowd of civilians from a disaster. His joy at the sight felt hollow as the video repeated itself… his mother didn't come in to turn it off. Instead he simply heard her through the door, ordering him to bed.

Looking around through the lens of memory, Izuku saw this hyper decorated room for what it was, a sanctuary. A hiding place. Here in his loneliness he could pretend that having an idol to look up to would fill the hole inside of him left by his parents.

He cried himself to sleep after turning the computer off.

Some days later Izuku would play at rescuing his mother for the last time. There is always a last time for such childhood joys. Usually such finality is not marked at the time. They simply pass. However, in Izuku's case the last rescue would obviously never be repeated.

His mother asked him "Aren't you getting a little big for this?" as though getting up to play hero with her son was a chore.

Disheartened, he still went through the motions of the game with her, loudly declaring that All Might catchphrase of "I am here!" yet the experience was hollow. Izuku didn't have the heart to ask her ever again.

His mother clearly had no desire to humor or encourage her son's dream of being a hero.

{}

"I see." The well-dressed version of Izuku spoke somberly. It was difficult to remember that this fully human body was nothing more than an extension of a gigantic dragon made of darkness.

"It wasn't ideal, but that was my home life." Izuku shrugged.

"What about school, or friends? Did you have anyone else to play with, to commiserate with? Anyone that would play hero with you?"

Undisguised bitterness crept like a snake from Izuku's throat. "No" he spat out. "Not unless you count Bakugou."

{}

Oh yes, Bakugou Katsuki and his lackeys often played hero and villain with Izuku. They always forced Izuku to play the villain. And the heroes would always beat up the villain. Izuku would often be scarred or bruised, sometimes burned.

Izuku flinched at the memory, recalling the helplessness and the pain of it all. Regardless though he could not bring himself to really care about what the Dragon was showing him. After all, he had let go of these feelings. There was no more weight here than there was color in the Dragon's illusions.

"Tell me about how all of this… bullying started." The Dragon's voice, disguised as Izuku's own, prompted in the middle of the memory.

"It started after Bakugou got his Quirk." Izuku said, even as the younger version of himself was getting pummeled. It was strange that he could hear the Dragon and speak to him even while receiving fists to his own face.

"Is that really when it started?" the Dragon asked, his voice floating ephemerally within the memory. Immediately everything shifted to the day that Bakugou fell in the river… the day that Izuku, small and helpless, offered to help get Bakugou up and out of the river.

That was the trigger? All along, it was his offer to help that started it. Before that day, their relationship had shifted from a friendship to one of leader and follower… but this was the day that Izuku's role as follower had died. In its place, Izuku would be rejected and relegated to become the victim of Bakugou's abuse.

It was all Izuku's fault. Bakugou didn't want his help. His mother didn't want to be rescued. No one wanted his help… "No one human, at least…" came the reminder from the voice that sounded so much like his own. Kindness was the problem, Izuku realized. Whenever Izuku offered himself out of kindness to help someone they grew distant and rejected him.

{}

"You sustained a large number of injuries over the years, Izuku-kun." The shadow-self lamented pitiably. "Didn't that boy get in trouble for tormenting you… didn't the teachers do anything… didn't your mother try to make things better?" There was an edge to that pity, a sadism that enjoyed knowing the answer before the question was finished.

Izuku would continue to feign at the shadow's game. "No. He never got in trouble."

The shadow silently waited for Izuku to continue. When the young Exalt refused to mouth the words they both knew came next, Izuku once again fell deep into his own memories… with a gentle push from the Ebon Dragon, of course.

{}

Izuku was laying down on his bed, facing the ceiling. There were burn marks across his neck and upper torso where Bakugou had unleashed an explosion that was stronger than usual. He had bandaged the wounds himself rather than ask his mother to do it. She had taught him how, knowing that he would need this skill.

This way she wouldn't need to be there to bandage him every time. This way she could avoid being called away from her work. Her phone calls to complain to the school had become less and less frequent over time. This time though the burns were bad enough that a call was warranted…

Izuku clenched his teeth at how weak his mother sounded. There was no fire in her, no fervor of rage over her son's abuse. It was like she was going through the motions, the expected societal norms, and the woman from the school administrator's office was equally acting along. Each of them humored the social norms while each knew nothing would truly be done.

The Dragon whispered to him that people often forgive abuse, just as Izuku had time and again. They ignore it outright if they aren't the recipient of it, especially if the abuser has beauty and power. Humans are weak minded creatures, after all, and flock to demagogues like sheep lining up for their own slaughter.

"No," Izuku whispered from his small battered body. "She doesn't care."

Izuku could feel his heart harden. His mother didn't care about him. She rejected him, letting him lie there without tending to him or fighting for him. At least she taught him to tend to his own wounds… a lesson then… that he must look out for himself and not rely on anyone else.

Izuku did not need Inko, the woman who birthed him. He did not need a mother. Or a father.

{}

"That all changed for you, didn't it? You finally met someone you could look up to and rely on… All Might, wasn't it?" the Dragon asked as Izuku's vision shifted to just a few days ago.

"You will never be a hero." All Might had said. He was weak. Emaciated. Yet he still spurned Izuku away from his hopes and dreams.

The vision froze and then rewound itself to the point in time when All Might lifted his shirt and displayed his near-fatal injury to Izuku's eyes. "He has secrets." The Dragon whispered.

"Of course he has secrets. He's hiding how injured he is." Izuku scoffed.

"No. Notice the details. There is more he isn't telling you." The shadow prompted him vaguely.

Rather than wait for further instructions Izuku cheated. He opened the third eye, gifted to him by Cecelyne. He focused hard using a lens over that eye, a construct of the Whispering Flame. Everything was revealed to him then.

The entire vision was a shadow-construct, an amalgamation of his actual memories and the Ebon Dragon's power. He saw how he was connected to the Dragon, the Shadow of All Things… but as he focused in on All Might, what he saw horrified him.

All Might had an Exigence. It was a lesser form of Exaltation. It was not genetic. It was a shining torch of pure Essence. It was old, far older than All Might's own soul. That soul was growing weaker, too fragile to keep holding onto so much power. He needed to find someone to pass that torch to…

Rage flooded vitriol into Izuku's heart when he finally understood how thoroughly All Might had rejected him. He wanted to rush forward and slice the man's throat. That gesture would be useless though. This was a shadow, just a memory of All Might.

"In a way, Izuku-kun, you should thank All Might for rejecting you." The shadow of Izuku rose up within the frozen vision, pale and frail compared to the mighty Prince.

"Without a fundamental failure, the Exaltation would not take hold." It was the first outright lie the Dragon had uttered to Izuku. A power deep within Izuku rang out like a bell, marking the statement as false. The rest of what the Dragon said, though, was true. "This was the crack in reality that drew our attention, that marked you in the eyes of Ligier. We are drawn to heroic spirits marred by failure, dear Prince. But you are a special case. Rather than a hero that failed, you are a hero that was failed by the world. This elevates you in the eyes of the Green Sun. He has placed a great many hopes in you."

Izuku saw the sense in all of this, yet still he was filled with bitterness towards his former idol. He could no longer say that he wanted to be a hero like All Might. A hero, yes. However, Izuku resolved to cast himself in his own image and utilize the power of his Exaltation to forge his own path.

The heroes of his birth world were powerful, yet that power was hollow. Inside they were greedy, flawed, narcissistic parasites playing a game in front of cameras for accolades and fame. Villains likewise were just pawns in a game of heroes, tools for the heroes to overcome before announcing their own victory. Izuku knew he had to rise above them both.

{}

All Might faded out of existence as the memory shifted. The rooftop remained, yet Izuku's perspective moved outward towards the horizon. His hands gripped solidly onto the safety fence of the roof's perimeter. A soft glow entered his peripheral vision. He knew this moment. It was etched forever into his mind.

He turned and saw Ahalmahlhat. She was even more beautiful in his mind's eye than he was able to appreciate in his self-conscious panic from before, his self-loathing at having been caught. This was the first time in his life that he felt so thoroughly accepted.

The moment that she kissed him stretched longer than eternity. Izuku was warm, welcome, and whole. He could barely recall the reason that he came to the rooftop in the first place. The coiling darkness whispering in his heart faded away. The urging he felt towards death dissipated as though it never was an option he had considered.

He forgot momentarily that the Dragon was watching him, observing him like a filthy voyeur. Izuku savored the moments he spent with the Neomah as he relished details that had passed by too quickly before. Ahalmahlhat was warm and her soft skin gave in to the press of his fingers, pliantly submitting to his embrace. Her mouth and her vulva each competed for his attention with how wet and wanton they were.

Her mouth on his tasted sweeter than any confection he had ever tasted. Izuku was rigid inside of her. Her vaginal muscles tightened and relaxed around him, teasingly massaging at his ache and need. He remembered that this moment ended before either could find their release and luxuriated in how much longer the sensations lasted, unhurried by her mission to usher him into Exaltation.

A tiny whisper in the back of his mind was the only reminder Izuku needed that he was not reliving this moment by himself. "There are many such Neomah as her… and all would lovingly serve you in the Eternal City of Malfeas… there are other pleasures as well."

All too quickly Izuku was no longer below the Neomah, Ahalmahlhat. He was on top of Cecelyne, tasting her. His tongue trailed up her inner thighs teasingly before diving in and tasting the waters of her forbidden oasis. He found the pearl at her epicenter and pulled back the hood in order to devour her whole. He was glad of how much pleasure he brought to her. He knew that she had had more experience than just him, more time spent in a lover's embrace than he had years of life. That did not belittle the fact that Izuku had brought her pleasure but enhanced it, swelling him equally with arousal and pride.

That pride swelled to outpace his arousal. He had survived the love of Adorjan! He had endured the examinations of the Whispering Flame! Look at how much Prince Izuku can endure! What trials he has overcome! All hail the Shining Prince, who passes any and all tests set before him by the Primordial masters of Creation! The moments of sex and adrenaline melded together into a milieu, jumbling together how much he had felt and how much he had surpassed. It was wonderful and addictive. There was more though waiting for him. Izuku knew that once he ascended to his rightful place in the Palace of the All Thing, anything he desired could be his. Sex. Drugs. Praise. Love. Anything and everything was within his reach. It was his to claim and to conquer. It was his rightful due.

It was too perfect. With a shock Izuku realized that he had been confusing the whisperings of the Dragon for his own internal voice. How long had he been doing that? Pulling at their connection as he had done with the Whispering Flame, he could see just how much the Dragon was changing him… had been changing him.

Unprompted he thought back. When did the whisperings of the Shadow start? Izuku was horrified that he did not truly know the answer. He flung his mind backward even as the Dragon filled his head with endless praise and pleasure, reliving the desperation and solitude he felt when he wrote suicide notes for his mother and for his tormenter. Why would he care what either of them thought? Why would he reach out to them from beyond the grave?

Why did he want to die?

And there it was all along. The dark serpent coiled around his heart, weighing him down like a stone tied to his feet, dragging him down into an abyss of despair and death. The Shadow of All Things was there prodding him towards his own destruction for far longer than Izuku would have ever suspected. Had that shadow been there all his life? It was certainly there well before Izuku encountered the demon, Ahalmahlhat.

Izuku smiled inwardly as he continued to indulge in the visions the Dragon used to inundate him. He could not trust his own memories anymore. Not even one. But he could smile and love his new masters… and he could hate them too.

He could also plot unseen against them. So, he smiled as he reached forward with his soul as though to embrace the shadows... but Izuku's purpose was far from benign. For now, he would lower his defenses and play along.

If only Izuku knew just how low his defenses had truly fallen.

{}

This vision was different from the rest. Unlike the others this was not in sharp glaring color. It was as muted as anything conjured by the Dragon from whole cloth.

His mother was there, but she could not see him. She was talking. Begging. Praying to Cecelyne.

"What is it that she is praying for?" the Dragon prompted, again using a mockery of Izuku's own voice.

For once Izuku did not know the answer in advance to the Dragon's question, at least not fully. He remembered that his mother had asked for the ceasefire. However, as the scene played out in front of him, it was the absence of what she said and asked for that stung far worse than any prior wound inflicted on him.

Inko did not ask Cecelyne for her son back. Izuku's mother did not even ask the dread deity if her son would be alright. There was no inquiry into his health or wellbeing. Nothing. Instead she begged for the lives of others…

Izuku could practically feel his heart turn into cold brittle flint.

"Now…" the Dragon spoke eagerly; his voice barely disguised any longer. "Tell us about this new Charm you've come up with."

As he turned away from the image of his mother, Izuku walked into another memory. This was the moment that the Dragon had promised to examine for the Whispering Flame. This was the moment Izuku cut into himself to activate Divided Chakra Shintai. The memory was still a patchwork of bright colored clarity and shadows that filled the gaps with colorless conjecture.

An accident. Izuku had cut too deeply when he made his own projected self. Somehow, he had cut away at vital memories with the Heart Cutting Edge. Izuku watched in horrified fascination as he watched memories spill out of his head onto the sand about him… memories that the phantasmal anima-projection quickly grabbed up.

The sheer disloyalty! The betrayal! The ephemeral copy of Izuku ran with the memory-weights and without word or explanation disappeared into the other world! Impotent rage consumed Izuku. Those memories were his. His!

{}

Izuku force his eyes open, unable to properly vent his wrath with them shut. His heart of flint demanded action and penance from those who had wronged him. Punishment would require power, power that thankfully the Primordial Host had provided to Izuku when they offered him Exaltation.

He was not surprised to find that he was standing on a floating dais of crystal and fire. Held aloft by the power of the Whispering Flame, Izuku stood alongside a shadow of himself, the Ebon Dragon. The Dragon's true body languidly flew alongside the platform while the Whispering Flame and her array of orbital spheres danced on his other flank.

Azure lines had been etched into his arms, a strange glowing tattoo. Arcane symbols in the dialect of Malfeas branched off from ley lines scar-carved into the skin from the top of his hand to twist behind his triceps before ascending beyond his view around the rear of his shoulders. The lines traveled onto his back to merge into a pattern he could not see, neither to read nor to see how far they extended up or down his body. The Whispering Flame offered no explanation as to the nature of her gift. He would need to decipher its utility and function on his own. That seemed right to him, given her desire to continuously test others. After all, beings such as him must appear like small rats in a maze to her.

Izuku was mildly surprised though to find that he was wearing a set of dark linens. The clothes loosely embraced his body, offering shelter from the Green Sun's harsh radiation. Thick soled shoes of an equally abyssal color protected his feet from the blistering heat below him. A small weight under the shirt accompanied by the feeling of cold metal provided all the clues Izuku needed to understand the nature of his attire. Everything he wore was a shadow projection from the medallion resting hidden against his chest. Somehow the loose chain it was fastened to moved, slithering its way to always hide under the edge of the shirt it had woven for him. Izuku spared a thought and the tunic like shirt shifted into a plain black t-shirt, then the color blossomed into the same deep emerald color as the vest the Dragon's shadow wore next to him, confirming for him his own absolute control over the appearance of his new wardrobe.

His new family offered up such wonderful gifts to him. Prince Izuku was truly blessed.

A small sphere extended from the array of the Great Sphere to float next to him. The whispers of a thousand voices coalesced into his mind. "Your errors have been sorted and accounted for. Our conclusion is that you are worthy to proceed into the Eternal City of Malfeas, Prince Izuku of House Ligier."

The shadow version of Izuku smiled with undisguised predatory joy when Izuku bent at the waist to bow to the Whispering Flame. "You honor me, oh Whispering Flame. Thank you for isolating my flaws and making them known to me. May my efforts to strive for perfection one day bring me closer to your greater symmetry." Honeyed platitudes coated around sincere love of the Primordial spilled from Izuku's mouth.

After all, how could he stay angry at his new family when they were so beautiful, so wonderful, and so generous? The earlier vivisection was so trifling, so inconsequential. It was all just a misunderstanding.

The sphere reformed itself into a nearly humanoid shape, a liquid manifestation of crystal and flame. It shone with the light of a million distant stars as it strode across the platform, where it then extended a hand… if that fingerless extension could be called a hand. Floating above the extended limb was a key made of fire and crystalized starlight. "Tell me, Prince Izuku, is this the Charm-object you were grasping for earlier when you were trying to steal from us, from she Who Lives in Her Name?"

His heightened essence senses confirmed that it was the very last key that he needed… for what again? He was no longer certain. He bowed deeper, sincerely sorry for what he had done. "Yes, Great Sphere. It was wrong of me to take your power without asking. My ambition outpaced my ethics and I allowed myself to breech the bond between us to take such power from you. I was swept up in the beauty of your symmetrical perfection and wanted some of that power for myself. I lusted for your mathematical understanding of truth and your potent will."

It did not occur to Prince Izuku that before today he had never been this eloquent or formal before in his life. He could not see the bits and pieces of himself that he was, even now, breaking off and leaving scattered like trash in a desert.

Izuku rose and gratefully accepted the key into his hands when the Whispering Flame allowed it to rest in his grasp. The Key burned his flesh as it dissipated into pure essence, its pattern absorbed into the constellations within the Prince's soul. "All is forgiven. Now. What will you do when you reconnect with your anima-construct? What is your plan to correct your internal dissonance?"

Without hesitation, Prince Izuku spoke with barely disguised and heartfelt bitterness. "I cannot trust him," Izuku says. "Unfortunately, I cannot reclaim my stolen memories without reestablishing that connection. I'll need to kill him and replace him with one loyal to me… loyal to the Reclamation. If I wait just a bit longer, he'll be completely helpless, and I'll simply tug his chain back to me… and then I will devour him."

The Dragon, watching all of this, smiled proudly. Prince Izuku noticed all of this and turned towards the shadow-Izuku that the Dragon had made expressly for talking to Izuku. He bowed low to the Dragon. "Thank you so much, oh Shadow of All Things. You have shown me how to love myself and to appreciate the faith that the Primordial Host of the Reclamation has shown in me."

Rising to meet him eye to eye, the two versions of Izuku smiled at each other, one a warped Prince of Malfeas, the other a shadow representation of his earlier self. Each knew secrets about the other better left unsaid, tiny sins that were best hidden away in the darkness. Still, the Dragon had great cause to be proud of this moment. After all, the Prince reasoned, it was none other than the Ebon Dragon who had shown Izuku how wrong he was up until this point in his life, how much his faith in those around him had been so stupidly misplaced. "Of course, dear Prince. Now, allow me the honor of being the first to welcome you to Malfeas… the Eternal City… and your new home."

The platform descended to the desert floor directly in front of one of the many gates into Malfeas. This close, the walls seemed perfectly straight, stretching forever to Izuku's right and left where the two Primordials took positions to flank the gate. The entryway seemed impossibly wide and tall, easily capable of fitting vehicles larger than an aircraft carrier if such a thing could move across the desert. The gates were formed of a strange green-hued brass. They groaned and creaked as they opened outward as if to embrace Izuku and usher him deeper into the great city.

Light and noise flooded outward from within the city itself. Scents of spices and flowers wafted across Izuku's nose. Brass bells rang from towers far in the distance, yet many smaller chimes and bells rang out on the street. Izuku walked headlong into a celebration held specifically for his arrival. Demons of over a hundred different species that fit numerous descriptions of shape, size, and color thronged about him. They shouted with unrestrained joy to welcome him as they rang various instruments, threw flowers and powdered spices into the air, filling the clamorous horde with discordant joyous noises, scents, and colors.

Several luscious Neomah approached him to place wreathes of silver flowers about his neck before he was pulled in to dance next to several tentacle limbed creatures. Great blood apes roared at his approach, honoring him and shouting oaths to follow him into glorious battle. Small lizards and locust folk bowed low as his celebratory entry party passed close to their shops, offering him gifts and samples of any silk, spice, or other oddity he could desire. A tall scorpion like creature, a Tinsiana if Izuku recalled, offered him a great jug of alcohol so potent that the young Exalt internally swore that he would get drunk just from the fumes. His other hand soon held a great leg of spiced meat offered up to him by a man that seemed more flower than flesh. Everyone. Everything. All of them wanted to meet him and to welcome him. In their eyes he saw hope and fascination.

Izuku, the Shining Prince, had come home. Finally, Izuku belonged and was welcome, appreciated, and praised as the great hero he always wanted to be.

The sights were nothing less than strangely spectacular. Far off the distance Izuku saw the endless spire of Qaf, stretching infinitely into the sky. He could barely make out the edges of Szoreny, the Silver Forest, wedged next to the district he was in like a great park in the middle of the bustling city. The city itself though was fascinating. It curved in long concentric rings, moving and expanding as a great living construct. Stone and metal melded together in a tenuous embrace to form polished cobblestone streets. Towers made of great shells, ivory, or even brass were common. Many were capped with loud bells that rang at irregular intervals. Yet despite the daunting height of it all everything was fully illuminated by the constant warmth and energy of the Green Sun.

The Prince was inundated with such sights and smells, caught up in brief conversations that he would struggle to remember while the demons he spoke to would likely treasure these moments for years to come. His status as a celebrity was instantaneous and overwhelming. It took several hours just to cross the great promenade before he could really explore the city, as the press of thousands of eager demons made passage difficult. The Prince though was generous and did not mind. These were his people, and he loved them almost as much as they loved him.

There is a saying in Malfeas. "There is no love without pain."

He saw her out of the corner of his eye. She was a living shock to his system, a mar against the perfection of this moment. He turned his head to look at her, and the demons thronged closer to him, offering up even more distraction as though panicking over the egregious error that had caused their Prince to feel anything but joy. Their effort was wasted. The damage was already done.

There, dragged by a chain around her neck, was a little girl. Human. Her eyes were large and dark; fearful. Her head had been shaved bald. Her bare feet were probably callused from walking on the hot cobblestones for so long. Before being pulled roughly by her gargantuan serpent-like master, she reached out a hand towards Prince Izuku. Her eyes begged for help.

The demons wanted him, but this small child needed him. The knowledge was a shock of ice to his face against the backdrop of a sweet summer day. How much had he let the demons change him and in how short a time… that he would willingly feel like he belonged with these rampant devourers of humanity… these despoilers of entire worlds?

Internally, he shook himself into action. He strode through the crowd purposefully, no longer letting the flow slow him or direct him. He knew he would never be able to save every human in the Demon City, and he also understood that there were likely more people here than there were humans on the home he called Earth. None of that meant that he couldn't somehow save this one little girl from whatever fate was in store for her.

No, he could do far better than that. He could save one world out of thousands… and one little girl. Quietly, discreetly, Izuku reached within his own essence and sent out the Morse signal to his other self. It was time to reconnect the chain. It was time for Izuku to trust his gut and not his memories. It was time for Izuku to remember that no matter what other people around him had done, it did not consign mankind to the cruel fate that the Yozis had in store.

Izuku could no longer recognize himself. That however did not change one basic fact, one small hand reaching out to him that called into his soul for help. Even if he was more demon than man, he could do this. Even if there would be no reward and no thanks, Izuku could still be a hero.


	19. Calibration

Yagi Toshinori did not vanish into nothingness. Together with Midoriya Inko, he dematerialized, an altogether strange experience. At first, he feared that they were fragmenting apart, but that was not the case. As they dissipated from one plane of existence they coalesced into the next. The world around them was as he remembered it, though everything seemed hazy and granular, as though he could pick apart the individual particles that made up everything. Objects seemed to overlap and bleed into each other. Buildings did not stand on their foundations so much as rest lazily on them, their ephemeral edges softly swaying on the spiritual winds that blew in from the coast.

Inko had a small preview of this existential facet thanks to the sorcery she endured earlier, but to Toshinori everything about this was a complete surprise. Regardless, he masked his own shock. To outward appearances, he casually took in the alien surroundings while maintaining a comforting grip onto Inko's hand with his own.

"Steady yourself, All Might." came a startlingly familiar voice from behind him. He turned to see Sondok. She was frayed at the edges, especially around her face. It looked as though she was being assembled atom by atom in slow motion. The parts of her that were assembling themselves seemed translucent rather than missing. Muscle and bone were visible, yet her skin seemed intact. Sondok was both whole and incomplete.

"I see you are recovering from your injuries just fine." was the only greeting Toshinori offered her. He instinctively tightened his grip onto Inko's hand as though he could protect her from this monster.

"A shame that you humans lack our regenerative abilities, or I could say the same for you. I suppose there are some with healing Quirks, but you do not fall into those ranks, do you?" as she moved toward them, he could see that her crown and weapons were back in her possession.

Mahbagodeth floated towards the building perimeter. Glowing crimson symbols floated around him as he worked some new sorcery into existence. Whatever was occupying him left both Inko and Toshinori to Sondok's attendant amusement.

"What happens now?" Inko asked.

Sondok bowed her head respectfully to the mother of the Shining Prince. Toshinori swallowed bile at the transparent gesture. "Regent, it is an honor to meet you. I am Sondok, Warden Soul of Ligier, the Green Sun. To answer you: Calibration has just begun. The time of Ligier approaches."

"Calibration?" Toshinori asked, worried about what this could mean.

Sondok gestured outward to the pale emerald aurora that illuminated the entire sky. From their current vantage, the ephemeral flames seemed especially intense, far more than they had been when they were solid. "If you gaze out this way, you can almost make out Ligier. He is the brightest star in this direction."

Inko gazed mutely, but Toshinori could not contain his morbid fascination. "Is that the star system you come from? Your homeworld?"

Sondok laughed. It was not a mirthful sound to either of her human listeners. "Our world is not anything like what you are imagining. You are picturing a sphere hurtling around a stunted sun. No. Malfeas, the Eternal City, is much grander than that. It rests on the bounty of Cecelyne, the Endless Desert. Simultaneously, it is a layered series of rings, interlocking districts that encircle Ligier, separated only by the great crossing of Kimbery… but you will see it in all of its beauty soon enough."

Inko looked worried as Toshinori pressed for more information. "We will see it? You don't mean just Midoriya Inko and her son do you… how many of use are you taking to your world?"

Sondok smiled as though she was giving someone fantastic news like she was happy for them. "The Primordials are drawing your world closer to Malfeas. When the Prince emerges from his five days of dreaming, the first stage of that process will be complete. Then Ligier won't be visible just to the initiated but all the naked eyes of every person in your world, so you may all appreciate his beauty."

Inko finally spoke up. "Closer to Malfeas? Drawing us closer? What does all this mean?"

Sondok pondered how best to relay this information, and then settled on the correct words to use. The wait was agonizing for Toshinori. Inko seemed without hope as she waited patiently for Sondok's words.

The demon spoke to them as though delivering a sermon of salvation or rallying troops before a skirmish. "By the time the Prince emerges, the journey from Malfeas to your world will always be five days across Cecelyne's expanse. No more. No less. Every year after, the Prince will conduct a ritual that will allow Calibration to resume. Each time, your world will be drawn a full day closer. At the conclusion of the final ritual, your world will become one of many that have been drawn into Malfeas itself. Rejoice. You will be inhabitants of Malfeas, and your world will be building material for the Eternal City."

Inko was shocked into abject silence as the true horror of what they heard overwhelmed her. Toshinori moved from holding her hand to steadying her with a grip on her shoulder. Despite this appearance of strength, a corner of his heart gave in to true despair. Inhabitants. In other words, they would be slaves. Building material. Their entire planet would be stripped of natural beauty and resources. Toshinori doubted that even a single species would be spared from extinction during Earth's dismantling.

Whatever it was their other captor was working on, he had finished. He spoke out a series of harsh-sounding words to Sondok, who bit back a reply of her own. Toshinori watched with undisguised curiosity as the two argued among themselves. The topic was unknowable to him, but apparently, they were disagreeing on how to divide their efforts. If that was the case, then their mission could not be as simple as protecting the Chrysalis and escorting Young Midoriya back to their homeworld. What other objectives were they going after while they were here, and what would it mean if humanity could frustrate those efforts?

Whatever the topic was, their increased volume inspired Miss Midoriya to lean in towards Toshinori for protection. Even in his weakened state he instinctively held onto her as though to shield her from these monsters with his remaining good arm. The fact remained that something was frustrating the enemy. Sondok rudely gestured over to where Toshinori was holding onto Miss Midoriya. The monstrous woman was clearly displeased about something her comrade had said, and that something involved the two of them.

Were they arguing over what to do with their captives?

The two eventually came to a tense accord with one another before Sondok turned to face Toshinori again. The masked monster that had captured them both summoned up something akin to a brass palanquin held aloft by a team of gigantic wasps. Both Inko and Toshinori recoiled at the thought of being confined in such a vehicle but were relieved when it was the Mahbagodeth that entered the thing before the craft moved due south towards the coast. What was there that the enemy would care about?

Sondok took a moment to compose her anger away before turning to face the two humans. "My associate has matters he must attend to. Now, regent mother, I invite you to join me as I journey towards Prince Izuku. All Might. You will come. For you, this is not a request."

"Yes please!" Inko blurted out her answer. "All I want is to be near my son!"

Toshinori caught a strange look pass through Sondok's red starlit eyes. Was that pity? Remorse? A pit formed in his intestines wondering what these monsters had in store for Miss Midoriya. "I'd insist on coming with you even if you didn't want me to, Lady Sondok."

Sondok extended her hands out to each of them. Without being told they both understood that they needed to take hold of her and clasp their hands to hers. They followed her steps as she walked ever so carefully forward. The building they were on warped and bent in time with her footfall, merging to the next and then that one in turn blended with yet another structure. Once they had completed a full step together, both Inko and Toshinori marveled that they had traveled at least seven city blocks. Behind them, the buildings all snapped back completely into place as though nothing was ever amiss.

It only took seven more steps, each as strange as the one before it, each warping and twisting the world around them, before they came to rest on the asphalt of a suburban street well outside of the city. Not far from them sat the hound of Sondok, the strange wolf that Toshinori had seen emerge from the back of her head. Behind him stood the object of his vigil, the Chrysalis that they had all been fighting over. It lit up the entire street with harsh emerald radiance, drowning out the pale green light of the sky above.

The journey was a jarring experience and proved too much for Toshinori's constitution, and the emaciated man bent over to vomit blood onto the streetscape. Inko moved to comfort or aid him but he held his palm up to keep her at bay. Recovering, he stood straight and wiped the blood from his lips. "Let's go check on your son, Miss Midoriya." Meekly the woman nodded and turned with him towards their goal.

Sondok ignored this entire exchange. Instead, she strode forward towards the emerald light of the Chrysalis, pausing only long enough to pat the smoke-formed canine on the head and scratch behind his ear. The creature held completely still despite the acknowledgment it was receiving.

As the three of them moved past the hound and through the corona-barrier, their eyes adjusted to the light within. A young brunette woman in a torn blood-soaked maid outfit sat on the ground near the Chrysalis. On her lap rested the holographic outline of a young man. Neither Inko nor Toshinori recognized either of the two.

Inko moved as if in a trance towards the gigantic shell, ignoring the additional actors that shared a stage with it. Her son was inside, and this was the closest she had been to him since he had vanished on his quest to… to end his life. Even if this barrier stood between them, she just wanted to be closer to her son.

For his part, Toshinori could not help but stare at the ephemeral young man on the ground. He seemed so oddly familiar. He didn't know of a hero that could project himself this way… or perhaps the ability was to turn himself into a projection? He didn't quite understand the Quirk he was looking at…

The young woman said something sharp to the man in her arms, something neither of them could make out. There was a muffling effect between physical and ephemeral layers of reality, it seemed.

The young man reached up to brush his fingers against the cheek of his companion. Toshinori could see the concern in his eyes… eyes that burned with green fire, a fire that caused him to wonder…

"You're right. There is no backup plan… I just want you to be safe… I'm… I'm afraid." the youth said. The voice was deep and rich, but something about it sparked a sense of familiarity.

The woman adjusted her grip on him before asking "What are you afraid of Izuku? After everything I've seen you do, you don't strike me as being afraid of anything."

Alarmed, Inko rushed to their side, kneeling next to the two of them. Panic overcame her as she tried to take in the young man's features… she took in his hair, his eyes, and his smile…

"Izuku…" Inko whispered, unable to comprehend just how much he had changed. "I don't understand…"

"I'm afraid of who Izuku will become… I'm afraid that I'm the last part of him that's still Izuku… if that happens, we're all doomed." the young man said out loud, his gaze never leaving his companion's face.

The young woman took ahold of his hand and placed it against her own cheek. "I believe in you, Izuku. You need to believe in yourself too, ok?"

Toshinori watched from a meter away while Inko knelt next to her son. Tears streamed down Inko's face as she reached tentatively forward. Izuku, or rather this taller and altered version of him, had one free hand dangling just beyond her reach. "Izuku… can you hear me?" Inko asked, almost begging. Her tears multiplied, drowning the smile on her lips as her fingers somehow interlocked with those of her son.

Young Midoriya's eyes moved, searching. Could he feel her there? Could he see them?

"What is happening to him? What is happening to my son?" Inko lamented, briefly sparing a glance to Sondok before refocusing her gaze onto Izuku's wandering eyes, hoping to make eye contact, to make some form of connection with him.

"Izuku? Are you all right?" the young woman asked.

"Sorry… I just… felt something there. Please, try to get a little bit of rest while we wait, ok?" he said, much to Inko's lament. She was touching him and yet he couldn't see her… but he felt her. That meant something. She reassured herself with that knowledge as she gripped onto his hand.

"The Prince has created an extension-construct of himself in order to transport the Chrysalis. From an earlier report, we know that he intends to take the Chrysalis to the peak of Mt. Takao. The broken chain… the crystals coating it… it's apparent that the Unquestionable have decided to test the Prince's loyalty." Sondok dryly commented.

"What happens if young Midoriya fails their test… if his motivations are still too human for their liking?" Toshinori couldn't help but ask.

The monstrous woman locked her red eyes onto Toshinori's, answering him without hesitation. "Then they will kill him. The construct here would die instantly, and the Chrysalis would disintegrate. The three are inextricably linked."

Inko went stiff at the thought. Her mind could not process past the danger that her son currently faced. Toshinori, though, pressed on. "What happens to your mission and to Calibration if that happens?"

Sondok contemplated for only a moment. "To restore my honor, I would remain with my soldiers and wait for another Prince to arrive with their legions so that the ritual of conquest may begin anew."

Honor. It was the first time Toshinori had heard her use that word. Although it sounded horrifyingly strange, it confirmed a lot about what he suspected earlier. This woman was a soldier deep down in her soul. She also confirmed one thing for him, that they wanted to conquer this world whether they obtained young Midoriya's obedience or not.

Yagi Toshinori couldn't hold his own tongue in check. "Honor. It seems contradictory to choose a young man and then turn him against his own people. Wouldn't it have been more honorable to declare war and then conquer us outright, without all of this… infiltration and subversion?"

Hot fiery rage consumed Sondok's proud features. "You dare…" she strode purposely toward him, grabbing the chain that linked his arm to his neck. "You, 'All Might', are an insufferable, infuriating little man. Your pride blinds you to your proper place. First, you insulted me while I guarded the Prince's Chrysalis, accusing me of cowardice! You implied that I feared one of the Exalted Princes and held back out of some paltry sense of human self-preservation, mocking me even as I held back against an opponent as unworthy as you! I can endure such insults and have done so from far more significant men than you!"

Just as Toshinori was about to choke out a response she threw him down onto the hard asphalt. He landed roughly, unable to cushion his fall with his maimed arm. "Now though… now you dare to question the methods of my superiors! The Unquestionable are called by that title for a reason! You have no right to call on them for answers, to argue against their infallible willpower! Ligier chose Prince Izuku to bear forth the banner of Malfeas, and that is what is going to happen! The how and the why are not for you to ponder and prod with your tiny mind or your insipid words!"

In a flash of movement, Sondok knelt over him, her iron teeth bared as she breathed malice against his face. He was caught, staring into her red star-filled eyes like a helpless pedestrian against an oncoming truck. "From this moment on you will hold your tongue. I may be under orders to let you and as many of your fellow 'heroes' live as possible, but that will not stop me from burning your mouth into ashes and wearing your teeth as a necklace. One more word and your face will be forfeit."

As hard as he tried, Toshinori could not hide the fear that he felt. His eyes felt cold air as they widened in shock at her word and actions. Helplessly chained and broken, he could not resist her. If Sondok wanted him dead, then Toshinori would die. If she wanted to maim him, then he would have to endure it. His own impotence against her felt like a lead weight in his chest.

"Please," Inko begged, weeping. She reached out with one hand in a placating gesture towards Sondok even as her other hand remained in contact with her son. "Please no more. You've done enough to us. Please just… let me have my time here with my son in peace."

"As the mother regent requests," Sondok said somberly. With a threatening glance back to Toshinori, Sondok solicited a nod of understanding from him. With that accomplished, the soldier from another world stood and moved away from her captives, preferring to stand vigil without looking directly at them. Her pupil-less eyes probably had them keenly spotted in her peripheral vision, though.

Panting, Toshinori finally realized that he had held his own breath. His one lung complained angrily at him, grasping for air that he had thoughtlessly denied it. Miss Midoriya quietly wept as she held onto her son's hand. Toshinori remained on the ground near her, fearing what it would mean if he crawled to her. Would it be for her comfort, or for his own?

Gritting his teeth, the professional hero knew that pitying himself was useless. No. It was better to think over the new information he had just learned. In quiet aftermath of Sondok's outburst, he had nothing but time to mull over everything that had happened since he had first laid eyes on her. He fought hard to keep his face neutral as the gravity of Sondok's mistake struck him. In her emotional outburst, she had confirmed that she was under orders to keep him alive.

Toshinori started to understand that to Sondok, his life was more than just a pawn for securing a truce. No, her orders to spare him probably were much older than the negotiated ceasefire.

Recovering from her assault helped disguise the gasp of realization as it struck him. "You are the one called All Might, correct?" were the first words Sondok had spoken to him. She knew him by appearance and by name. At the time that didn't seem so unusual given his fame as the number one hero, but now it all seemed so oddly out of place.

These creatures had shown no interest in humanity except as pests or resources. Singling out young Midoriya and his mother made sense to him, given their mission to alter him for their purpose. Why then would they know him? Why would All Might be singled out or worthy of their notice?

Sondok had called his Quirk a sad exigence. Could she have been hiding something within that insult? It seemed likely. Could these invaders have more interest in One for All than they were willing to admit? Could that be the one reason he was left alive? Why though? His Quirk clearly was no match for their combat potential. If not for everyone else's help, or Ingenium's sacrifice, Sondok could have easily killed him earlier.

The puzzle pieces were falling into place within Toshinori's mind. He was maneuvered into surrendering himself into their custody, and Midoriya Inko was used to accomplish that goal. Murdering other heroes was just a means to that end. There was no need for them to even engage in combat if the heroes had no means to pry open young Midoriya's Chrysalis. The elaborate nature of the scheme made no sense to him until now. He had something that they wanted… and that something was One for All…

A dark pit of resolute determination formed in his gut. Even if it was the end of One for All's lineage, even if it meant the Quirk would be snuffed out, Toshinori could not let them use him to obtain it. He couldn't let himself enter any more deals with them, no matter how dire things became. Now that he knew what kind of scheming monsters they were, he hoped no one else would be so foolish as that.

Toshinori looked on to the sad sight of Midoriya Inko holding her son's hand as the unknown young brunette held him in place. The holographic young man met his gaze steadily. Could he see and hear them? Had he ignored his own mother just to covertly overhear Sondok? How much of this had he figured out? How much had he heard of Sondok's rant? Toshinori felt terrible for young Midoriya. Surely, he had figured out by now that to these monsters, humans were just interchangeable parts. There was nothing that the younger man could offer them that would match up to the power they were injecting into him… they feigned indifference about the world and lauded how special their Chosen champion was as a distraction. They wanted him, yes, but as a steppingstone to a goal outside of him.

Just then, the younger man smiled softly at Toshinori. It felt like the two of them connected, sharing the same conclusion in the dying light of the Chrysalis. The young man knew. Wordlessly, somehow in that single moment, Toshinori not only understood that young Midoriya was figuring out just as much as Toshinori had if not more. Despite his subterfuge, he was taking the time to reassure the older hero. For a flickering moment, he felt a flame ignite inside of him, lit by a spark passed to him by the young man's smile. That flame made him feel like he was still All Might, no matter how much he had let everyone down. More than ever before, Toshinori wished he had chosen his gut instead of his head and made young Midoriya his successor.

{}

It had been an emotional roller coaster since Deku had taken off like a comet out of the city, carrying Round Face with him. Their makeshift band of heroes and deputies had met up with five other teams. The long hours that had been spent on evacuations and reconnaissance took a harsh and exhausting toll on all of them. Their efforts saved more than seventeen loads of passengers in ambulances and medical helicopters, all of them stuffed beyond recommended capacity with helpless civilians.

This break, however brief it would be, was a nice change of pace. They had finally found Round Face's mom, the one that the shapeshifting oil-blob had imitated earlier. While watching Mr. and Mrs. Round Face embrace, Katsuki wondered where his mom was. Had she gotten out of the city? Did she meet up with his dad? Did that shadow lady in the freaky makeup find her?

Katsuki shook that last thought off. The gesture earned him some strange glances from the two others sitting with him at the kitchen table of the Round Face family apartment. Ginza Girl and Pink Puff both looked as tired as he felt. Officially the three of them were supposed to be resting but none of them felt comfortable borrowing Round Face's room, either together or separately. As tired as they were, it just felt wrong.

The kitchen was cramped and dark. Every light in the apartment was left off to avoid giving away their positions to the outside world. There was no way to know who or what might notice them. The only thing preventing them all from stumbling in the darkness was the constant illumination from the bright green aurora outside. Yeah, that was still freaky. Katsuki tried to not think of the embarrassing string of nonsense-expletives he unleashed when the fucking sky decided to glow like Deku's new hermit crab home.

The walls were absurdly thin. They could hear Mr. and Mrs. Round Face in the next room over, consoling each other about their daughter's bravery and well-being. Mount Lady, the only hero other than All Might that had the decency to pick a name Katsuki could remember, was snoring softly in Round Face's room. If anyone deserved a good nap, it was probably her.

Whale Face, Dry Eye, and S&M were discussing the group's next moves in the living room area. That didn't mean there was any wall separating the teenage deputies from their heroic counterparts. The two groups simply tried to quietly keep things to themselves. This was supposed to be a break, after all.

Even if it was supposed to be for less than an hour, it was needed after all of them had been so high strung for more than thirty hours. Even queuing for the one toilet had been a reminder of how tired everyone was. Exhaustion was one aspect of hero-work no one really talked about, nor was borrowing bathrooms or futons when you were stranded out in the field.

The hero team was keeping tabs on other teams through their communication system, tracking how well the evacuation effort was going. More than two dozen teams were scattered across the city, and hundreds of police and emergency response teams were coordinating with them. Beyond that was the aid brought in by the Defense Force. It was a logistical nightmare, and Katsuki was overwhelmed just trying to think about it all. His ears perked up when he heard All Might be mentioned from across the room. Apparently, his communicator was still transmitting, but the amount of static it was producing made most of the conversation he was in nonsensical. It was also impossible for the Support Corp. to track his location properly.

Pink Puff stretched, causing her top to ride up and expose a tight-toned stomach. Katsuki feigned indifference to the exposed skin, but still looked her way when she spoke up. "If we're going to just sit here and wait, we might as well talk about something." With that, she had both his and Ginza Girl's attention. He assumed the two of them would engage in girl-talk, but Pink Puff focused in on him instead. "Hey." She prompted him.

"What do you want, Pink Puff?" he asked.

Pink Puff had taken to him renaming her in stride, whereas Ginza Girl still bristled every time he even spoke. Even now she was fuming in her seat, glaring across from him for daring to rename Pink Puff. The pink-skinned teen was nonchalant though, "Tell us about Izuku."

"Deku? There's not much to tell, nothing interesting at least. He's a Quirkless wimp and a loser." He said before he could stop himself. It was true though. Deku had at best average grades and a lackluster physical education performance. To top it off there wasn't anything about him that stood out as interesting or worthy of remark in Katsuki's eyes.

Ginza Girl wasn't buying anything Katsuki had to say though. "That 'Quirkless wimp' is getting pumped full of demonic power from an alien world. Some of those demons can beat up heroes as powerful as All Might. Oh, and the demons are trying to invade us. That kind of makes him… you know, Izuku, his actual name… the most interesting person on the planet. So yeah, humor her. Tell us about Midoriya. You can start with where you came up with the name Deku." Every syllable seethed out of her mouth like a dragon breathing fire.

Katsuki looked back and forth between the two of them. Pink Puff was trying to keep things light and happy while Ginza Girl seemed pissed that Katsuki was breathing the same air as her. This conversation was going to be hell, but he didn't see a way to avoid it inside this cramped space. "It was a nickname I gave him when we were kids. It's a way to reinterpret the reading of his name." he kept things simple and factual.

Pink Puff though decided to pull up her finger calligraphy app and placed her phone on the table. "Show us." She requested. He was starting to suspect that despite her jovial attitude that she was enjoying stirring this hornet nest.

With a raised eyebrow Katsuki was about to make a flippant remark about wasting battery life. A single icy glare across the table from Ginza Girl forced him to reconsider. So he gave them their way and wrote out the kanji for Izuku. He used the same Izu one would use in Izuru and the same character for Ku that was derived from an alternate reading of the name Hisashi. He didn't think too hard about what any of that would mean to Izuku though.

"We know what his name is Bakugou." Ginza Girl spoke out, the words were cold and sharp as she stared him down. "Show us how you would write Deku."

The rich girl did not phrase her desire as a request, but Pink Puff leaned in to say please on her behalf.

"Fine," Katsuki said, knowing what was coming next. Accusations. Name-calling. His mother's voice echoed in his head, asking what kind of hero would tell someone to jump off a building. He wrote out the kanji for Deku. Wooden Doll. Useless Person. It's what he felt his former friend was, the most fitting name for him.

Katsuki expected the first volley to come across the table from Ginza Girl. He was caught off guard by Pink Puff wincing and blurting out, "Damn. How old were you when you stuck this on him? Hell, what did he do to you to deserve a custom-made insult on this scale?"

"What did Deku do to deserve this? What a stupid question. He…" and suddenly Bakugou Katsuki was stumped. He realized that no one would ever understand what kind of a pebble in Katsuki's shoe his former friend was. How could he explain it in a way anyone else would ever accept?

Ginza Girl leaned forward to press her point home to him. "Some of the nicest people I know are Quirkless. My driver. Some of my tutors. With one out of five people being Quirkless you will still find at least some at every family reunion. So I have to ask… why is the way someone was born a valid reason to insult them?"

He folded his hands under his arms and retreated into himself. He didn't want to hear any of this. Regardless of his desire though, the stupid conversation continued without him. "People can be cruel like that," Pink Puff pointed out. "I got made fun of throughout lower and middle school for my skin and horns. Then I developed this figure and suddenly the insults evaporated."

"It's not just the way he was born!" Katsuki blurted the words out with more volume than he meant to. That earned him a glare from Dry Eyes across the room. Lowering his voice back to decent conversational levels, he continued. "He got in my way… over and over again, he was always there, getting in my way…"

"Well, he did say he used to look up to you as a big brother." Pink Puff pointed out.

"What? When did he say that?" Bakugou was dumbfounded. Did Deku say that? How had he missed that? It was true that he was three months older than Deku, but he never recalled anything that would make them feel like siblings…

"It was back when the two of you thumped your chests at each other like a bunch of idiotic men… right before he laid you out on the asphalt." Ginza Girl smiled while she said it, as though relishing the flavor of Katsuki's embarrassment.

He ignored her though, trying to piece together these feelings Deku used to have. The two of them were close as kids before Deku was revealed to be Quirkless. That by itself wouldn't be enough to make their relationship so… familiar. Other than the two of them playing together as small children back when their moms lived in the same apartment complex, he couldn't think of... "Shit." He mused out loud. Had he really beat up on someone who looked up to him that much? As he thought it over, he couldn't get that shadow demon out of his head. She had thanked him for bullying Deku. How fucked up is that?

"I can't imagine how I would feel if I had someone that close to me that made me feel that way. That really sucks. I mean, if my Horn Buddy insulted me that way I'd be devastated." Pink Puff pondered thoughtfully, unaware of just how deeply she was cutting into Bakugou with her naïve musings.

"Horn Buddy?" Ginza Girl asked.

"Oh! My boyfriend! Here, let me show you a pic. He's so fucking hot. All mine though, no touching!" the pink-skinned girl said, passing her phone over.

Ginza Girl had the decency to smile wryly at Pink Puff after looking through not just one but several pictures. "I can see why you want this all to yourself. So, does this fine man meat have a name other than Horn Buddy?"

"Kirishima Eijiro," the horned young woman said proudly. "Today… or... er… yesterday was supposed to be our first date. We've been friends throughout high school. We've decided to try and be more than that."

"What brought on the change, if you don't mind me asking?" The black-haired beauty inquired, shifting to genuinely friendly curiosity now that they had mutually moved on from grilling Bakugou to death.

Mina shrugged. "One day he was stiff and awkward and really wanted to talk to me after school, away from all our friends. He kept avoiding the main topic, going on about how we're both trying to get into the same hero courses for university, about how much he admires me… then I got annoyed with him and asked him to get to the point and he did… he just reached forward and took me in his arms…" She motioned with her hands outstretched as though she could feel his biceps under fingers. "Then he brought his face close to mine and…"

Momo was caught on Mina's bait. "And?"

She smiled mischievously, "And then I kissed him. The look on his face was priceless, and that dumb look got even funnier when I asked him what took him so long. It was only a week ago but… I wish we had started so much longer ago." Her yellow-on-black eyes glistened with a dam-full of unspent tears. "High school is almost over… and now the world might be ending."

Momo reached forward to take Mina's hand in hers. She cast a menacing gaze out the window at the greenlit sky before turning softened eyes back to Mina. "The world isn't going to end. We're not going to let it."

Dropping her phone to the table, Mina joined her free hand onto Momo's, the two women drawing strength from each other. Katsuki, still lost in thought, allowed his eyes to wander over the picture on her screen. "Hey, I've seen that shitty hair before… in the park near ground zero." He blurted out.

Mina was shocked into a frenetic state of near panic. "Wait, when was that? Was he ok?"

"Yeah, he was fine. This was yesterday, late. I think he was deputized under Kamui Woods. There were a few others as well, but even with all the smoke and chaos I could pick out that hair easily." Bakugou confessed, surprising both Momo and Mina with his ability to be that observant.

Mina closed her eyes and breathed out a long sigh of relief. Eijiro was ok. He was with others, heroes. Momo squeezed her hand. Mina asked, "Bakugou, what were Kamui Woods and his team doing? I'd ask the heroes over there but they're kinda busy right now… please don't make me go over there to find out!"

Bakugou sighed. "Last I saw them they were clearing civilians out of the combat zone."

Mina nodded, taking in that news. That meant that their team would try to stay off the front lines. Now with the truce in effect, they should have more room to breathe and could get out safer.

Their conversation was interrupted. Gang Orca strode in. "Bakugou. I'm heading in for what looks like a combat mission. Everyone else here is going to focus on civilian extraction. I normally would not ask this, but we're in an unusual circumstance. Do you…"

"I'm coming with you." The young blonde stood abruptly.

The whale faced hero folded his arms across his chest. "You don't even want to hear the details?"

"You said combat, right? Then I can be useful. Let's go." The young man said, his stride taking him voluntarily closer to danger. That was still less frightening than the feelings that were stirring inside of himself… no thanks to Pink Puff and Ginza Girl.

"Bakugou. Good luck." Mina called after him. She was sincerely worried about him and his safety, no matter what he may have done in the past. Momo, though appearing concerned, said nothing.

Katsuki smirked at Pink Puff. It was the only reply he offered before leaving the apartment with the largest pro-hero on their team. After he and Orca made it to the stairs, Gang Orca spoke more freely. "We're up against Villains this time, but we don't know if any demons might pop in to make things interesting."

"Villains? In the middle of all this? Do they have a death wish or something?" Katsuki mused out loud.

"We got the call from Kamui Woods. He and his team need backup." Orca spoke, causing Katsuki's insides to lurch.

Pink Puff's boyfriend Shitty Hair was in that group… he had the urge to run back, to shout for more reinforcements. Instead, he asked, "If they called for backup then why is it just the two of us?"

"Because civilian lives are hanging in the balance back here, and other teams are calling for help. Everyone we just left is going to be stretched thin, and we can't let the evacuation lag no matter how much danger there is." Orca explained bluntly. The truth was harsh, but it was better to face it head-on.

"Yes, sir," Katsuki replied, accepting the nature of his orders. Pink Puff would have to wait. He hoped that she wouldn't get any bad news and resolved to save Shitty Hair's ass.

{}

Ochako awoke suddenly, instinctively pulling her head up from where it had gone slack with exhaustion. While shocked that she had fallen asleep while sitting on the asphalt, she was relieved to find that Izuku was still in her arms. Nevertheless, she adjusted her grip on him. Despite her bladder complaining angrily at her, she adamantly refused to let him go.

The anima light from the Chrysalis had faded significantly, as had the radiant heat that enveloped her. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she felt the cold night invade the air around her.

Earlier the Chrysalis had been enveloped in a roaring conflagration of emerald energy. Now it seemed muted. Diminished. It was still a bonfire but had significantly reduced from what it once was. The darkness from beyond was interrupted by a greenlit sky, set ablaze by an aurora that she was only now able to see clearly. It was both beautiful and frightening.

Izuku was similarly reduced. His legs no longer had enough density for the pants or underwear to hold onto him. They had fallen to the ground and passed through him like he was a ghost. His torso was almost completely see-through, and he only had one arm remaining. The other existed as a faint outline like it had been sketched into existence. One side of his face had similarly dissipated, taking an eye with it. It was strange and alarming to look at him, half of him so whole and healthy and the rest of him hazily smudged out of existence. It took a fair amount of willpower not to weep over him.

Ochako bit down on her cheek, fighting back her own emotional chaos. She could be strong for him. "How long was I out?" she asked.

"Maybe five minutes." Izuku smiled up at her.

His answer worried her. If the light died out this much in just five minutes, then it could snuff out completely in just a few more. And with the light out…

"Tell me about yourself." He interrupted her thoughts. She saw what he was doing. Ochako would play along, letting Izuku distract himself from…

Be brave and admit it to yourself, Ochako. He's dying. It's slow, but it's the truth. Ochako consoled herself that she had not left his side for even a moment and that he would not be alone even when the last of his light snuffed out.

She sniffed, battling against mucus loosened by her own dammed up tears. "There's not much to tell about me… I'm not all that interesting."

He smiled up at her, his fangs looking out of place against his gentle expression. "You volunteered to go on a suicide mission at the end of the world. Just before that, you were a waitress. That's a big leap, Ochako. I'd like to know more about the woman that made that leap."

She smiled and nodded, acquiescing to his curiosity. A lone tear left her eye and trailed down her cheek. "I just… after watching what happened to you on the news, to your mom… to everyone… I couldn't just sit back and let the heroes do everything. I had to find some way to help. And then when those brutes attacked the restaurant… oh, that was right after Mount Lady ran past us with the Chrysalis under her arm…"

Izuku listened intently to her, hanging on every word. He didn't interrupt or comment, but she followed his interest by the way his eyes would show amusement or interest in each facet of her story… from the type of restaurant she worked in, to the drive with Momo, Mina, and Midnight, she felt comfortable revealing everything to him and even admitted that she only took the waitress job so she could save up for the tuition at U.A.

"You'll make a great hero." he interrupted her for the first time to say that.

His compliment had her choking back even more tears. "So will you," she said back.

A flash of light interrupted her peripheral vision. Turning her head, she saw the strobing light emerge from the core of the Chrysalis. "Izuku, you…" she couldn't quite process how to tell someone that they were trying to talk to their other-self. She didn't have to. The light rapidly grew in intensity, flooding the area with warm green radiance.

Izuku inhaled deeply, as though breathing light into himself.

The comm system in her ear activated a small camera. It was thanks to this tiny device that Ochako was able to eavesdrop in on Izuku's dialogue with himself.

Cold and mechanical, the computerized voice relayed Izuku's words. "I have survived the examination of the Whispering Flame. Stop. I have been changed by the Ebon Dragon. Stop. I no longer know which memories are mine anymore. Stop."

Ochako's heart cried out for him. They changed his memories. She instinctively held tighter onto Izuku as if to protect him from what the demons were doing to him.

Izuku reached out toward the Chrysalis. The look of painful longing on his face almost broke Ochako's heart. "I am so sorry," he said. "I wish I could have endured all of that for you."

The other Izuku did not acknowledge the emotional platitudes from his copy. "Did you steal my memories? Stop. When I activated the Charm that produced you, did you take the memory of how I learned the Charm? Stop."

"I took it, yes, but I did not steal. You asked me to take it with me. You know I can't betray you… I'm part of you. I won't last at all without you. I… I'm a temporary existence, and I know that… you know that too, don't you? When this is all over… you'll absorb me, and get those memories back… you know that right?" the Izuku in her arms desperately pleaded with his source.

Ochako fought back tears upon hearing this. No matter how this would end, this man in her arms would no longer exist… the thought caused her significantly more pain than she would have guessed possible. She had resolved to be here for him until the end, but to learn that even the best-case scenario for him involved his death was just too much for her.

The mechanical voice might as well have bit the words out. "You are telling the truth. Stop. My memories are altered. Stop. I have no choice but to trust what you are saying. Stop. But. Stop."

"But?" Izuku uttered weakly even as she thought the exact same query.

"I want those memories back. Stop. Now. Stop. Reconnect. Stop. The time to rejoin me has come. Stop. Then I will recreate you. Stop." The translated light-flickering was harsh and demanding. None of this felt right to her.

Ochako could feel Izuku tense his muscles weakly. He barely had the strength to grasp the chain that dangled from his own chest. The man in her arms argued pitiably with the other inside the giant shell. "No. I didn't take the memories inside of myself. They're in a safe place. The…"

"The Primordials want you to have those memories while you're within their reach." He suddenly switched to English, which thankfully Ochako knew enough to follow along. She wondered why he would switch languages like this. Was he worried that they were being listened to? Her eyes wandered to the hound sitting out there in the darkness.

She did everything she could to avoid looking at the mass of memory stones that weightlessly bulged inside of her maid-uniform, though Ochako couldn't help but wonder what was stored inside of them. A small part of her marveled that she was trusted with something so personal and so important.

While the man inside the shell contemplated Izuku's words, he continued. "We're wasting time. We must stop Calibration…"

"Calibration? Stop. How? Stop. The Chrysalis? Stop." The light rattled back a confused reply.

"Yes. We must rush things and get you out of there so that we can stop Calibration. Tell me, since our disconnection, how much time has passed?" Izuku practically coughed with the effort this conversation was taking.

"It's been at least four hours since I was last connected to you. Stop." the light strobed in response.

"No. It's been maybe forty minutes at the most. The Primordials are syncing time between the two worlds, pulling the two together." He pleaded from within Ochako's embrace. "We have to break you out of the Chrysalis as fast as possible and keep the two worlds out of sync. Please trust me. Keeping these memories outside of their reach is the only chance we have."

There was a long and uncomfortable pause. Ochako's mind boggled at the thought of what Izuku was fighting against. While the heroes here were contending with the violence across Musutafu, Izuku had to stand against the tide of forces she could barely understand.

"Fine. Stop. Reestablish the connection. Stop." the light relented the argument… or at least pretended to.

Ochako could see the indecision on Izuku's face. She didn't know, just like him, whether the other Izuku in there could be trusted. However, that chain was the one thing that would sustain this Izuku here and provide power to him again. The anima flaring up had extended his life, but he was still as powerless and limp as he was moments ago. She looked down at the chain on the asphalt and was relieved that it no longer was encased in opal-fired crystal. Picking up the length of chain herself, she offered it to Izuku.

Izuku pondered a bit longer before nodding. The two of them locked eyes together, sharing their uncertainty wordlessly. They both knew there was no other choice. Their hands folded over each other's as they brought the chains together. A spark of something more intense and yet less jarring than static jolted Ochako's hand as the chain re-fused together.

The transformation was intense and immediate. Izuku's body flooded with light and life. He was blinding to look at, like a thunderbolt resting in her arms. His face, torso, and limbs were immediately whole and strong. Ochako withdrew her hands and Quirk as he stood on his own power. Seeing him whole so suddenly flooded her with relief. Happy tears fell across her face at the sight.

Ochako chided herself for staring, however, his back muscles and flexing glutes were now right in front of her, and after seeing him restored to full strength she was relieved enough in the moment to admit that those muscles all looked amazing. His legs were thick and powerful, reminding her of how tirelessly he ran through the city with her and the Chrysalis in tow. Thinking about his immunity to fatigue took a strange turn in her mind toward thoughts that she decided were best left for after the world had been saved.

Her stare took on a strange fascination though as new features appeared. Lines of bright azure etched themselves onto his back, forming a massive mandala-tattoo comprised of several thousand small symbols in a language she had never heard of. The radial symmetry of it all was breathtakingly beautiful, even if it did interrupt the skin of his muscular back or his perfectly formed butt. She was tempted to brush his long hair to the side to get a better look at the azure light show on his upper back. The lines wrapped forward over his shoulders before stretching down his arms. As she tried to detect a pattern, she could not tell if it was designed after some winged creature or an opening flower. Perhaps it was both, or maybe it was something far more abstract, a construct made of words and light rather than a physical shape.

Her view of his back and everything that descended from it was interrupted as holographic clothing formed before her eyes, an amalgamation of light and shadow. When he turned towards her, she saw it was a fitted dark green tee-shirt and a set of loose black slacks. The shoes were the only part of the outfit that she thought needed changing. None of these changes meant as much to her as the look of relief on his face. The two of them shared a knowing smile. They had gone through a lot together in such a short amount of time.

Of all people, it was Izuku that interrupted what could have evolved into a tender moment. "Is the Chrysalis in place? Stop."

"No. We're not very far. Find a way to a private location, wherever you can find it in the city… you are in… the Eternal City, correct?" Izuku replied. His voice was strong, with depth and richness to it that Ochako realized she missed earlier.

That richness stood in contract to the mechanical droning that transcribed the words of the other Izuku. "Yes. Stop. I found someone that needs my help. Stop. I'll try to not waste too much time on it. Stop. Alert me when everything is in place. Stop. Then we'll need to share some of those memories. Stop."

"I'm way ahead of you, Izuku. And Izuku… if you need to be a hero… then go be one." He said, encouraging his source to rescue whoever it was in there that needed help. Could they afford to be greedy, to save one person when an entire world needed them? Ochako realized that on some level, this kind of conundrum helped define who Izuku was deep down inside. The two of them need to do this, if for no reason than to claim how they defined themselves.

"Thank you. Stop. You too. Stop." Somehow Ochako knew there were more emotions interlaced in those words than the translator could provide.

Izuku looked over to Ochako before replying to the other Izuku. He did not break eye contact with her. "I'm way ahead of you… no… we're way ahead of you."

Ochako instinctively swallowed her own apprehension and nervousness as two pairs of eyes, each belonging to a different facet of the same man, turned to appraise her. The Izuku that she knew and had grown fond now gazed at her with gratitude, pride, and perhaps something else. The glowing lights within the Chrysalis turned to regard her with a scrutiny that made her significantly less comfortable. She got the impression that the man trapped in there was suspicious of her… no… of everything. What had they done to him in there?

"Izuku, meet Uraraka Ochako." It was strange to be introduced this way, by an extension of himself.

Ochako bowed instinctively. "It's good to meet you. Your… you've already taken such good care of me." She almost yelped. Why was she so nervous?

"I take it you've been helpful. Stop. I'll ask about it later. Stop. Thank you. Stop. I look forward to meeting you face to face. Stop." Though mechanical, the greeting was warm. She smiled, glad that no matter what they had done to him, that the Izuku in there still reminded her of the one out here.

"Izuku. Did you get the keys? The entire plan won't work without those." Izuku implored, his voice tense with apprehension.

Keys? Ochako wonders.

"I have everything that we need and more. Stop. I let them change me. Stop. If I hadn't how else would I have picked their pockets? Stop." Pride emanated from him despite the mechanical transcription of his words. Even Ochako couldn't help but smirk, her curiosity and confusion overridden by being accepted as an accomplice to their heroic conspiracy.

Izuku's fang-filled smile was both feral and dangerous. "Is that the power I'm feeling in my veins? Is it hers?"

"Yes. Stop. And his. Stop." Came the reply. Ochako decided now was not the time to ask who they were speaking about.

"You've got balls, Izuku." said the man standing beside her to his trapped twin.

"You should know. Stop. You have a matching pair. Stop. Now hurry. Stop. There is no time to waste. Stop." Came the retort. Ochako wanted to laugh as the two bantered like brothers.

"Be careful in there. And see you soon." Izuku said in parting.

"Likewise. Stop." and the other signed off.

The flickering halted, but the corona of emerald light remained intact. Ochako saw that the holographic scenery had changed significantly. She was no longer standing on an endless series of diminutive dunes. Now there was an endless series of towers and spires. Alien creatures wandered the streets or flew between the buildings. Tiny bells rang out soundlessly across the cityscape. All of it was lit by a sizable ball of green fire perhaps ten meters above the Chrysalis. She wanted to point out different things of wonder or amusement, but she knew that now was not the time. She knew what had to be done and moved to the Chrysalis to make her contribution to the team.

She barely had a moment from when she made the Chrysalis weightless before she felt his hand on her waist, about to pick her up into his arms. "Wait," she said.

"What?" Izuku's eyes were filled with concern. Her heart fluttered at the tension in his voice.

"I need a pit stop," was all she said.

He nodded in relief, understanding her discreetly, and she was picked up off her feet. Ochako wasn't startled anymore when Izuku picked her up into his arms. It felt safe and right.

"There's a tourist station at the bottom of the mountain. Sound good?" he ran the idea past her. She nodded and held tight to him while placing a protective hand over the weightless stones she was hiding, bracing for a harsh blast of wind for when he picked up speed.

That harsh blast never came, at least not as fitfully as last time. Opening her eyes, Ochako marveled that the air seemed to hit an invisible shield in front of them. She tried to speak up, shouting, but the air around them still made talking very difficult.

"Yes. Stop. I made a windshield out of telekinetic force. Stop." Izuku glowed from within, illuminating his message to her as he continued to run forward. That meant that he knew all along that she had been listening in. The thought caused her cheeks to flare up with heated embarrassment.

Her gaze fell to the Chrysalis trailing behind them and then beyond that to the hound pacing itself in the distance. It couldn't keep up, but it maintained a respectable speed. She smiled and decided that this was now one of her favorite methods of travel.

She wanted to speak up and ask him to take her running like this somewhere once this was all over. Maybe a beach? Would that qualify as a date? Is it too early to ask him something like that? Are we even friends yet? We are on a first-name basis but is that just because of this emergency?

No, she resolved. They would work towards saving the city first… or apparently, the world. Then, once that was over and adrenaline was no longer running through her system… then, and only then, she resolved that she would get to know Midoriya Izuku. Besides, she reasoned, she had earned at least that much.

Cast in emerald light, Mount Takao loomed over them, dominating more and more of the horizon. It had never looked so beautiful to her before.


	20. Victory in Defeat

Of all Camie's injuries, Eijiro knew that the gashes on her ankles were the most likely to kill her. Her breathing was erratic while panic fueled sweat coated her face, soaking into her blonde hair. Her blouse was stuck to her chest, outlining her features. He could see how shallow and rapid her breaths were. When he reached out for her legs she flinched. "Hey, Camie. You gotta let me treat these wounds, ok?"

He could see the fear in her eyes. Something on the outer edge of madness seemed to be gnawing on her mind. This wasn't just pain. After she nodded for him to continue, he lifted both legs high into the air. He avoided looking down between them where they met under her short shirt. They were long and shapely but covered in blood. "Bear with me while I bind up your ankles, ok?"

Camie bit onto her lip before giving him a trembling reply. "Please…" Whatever she was about to say never formed into complete words. She instead replaced whatever desperate request she was going to make with another thought. "I swear I'm not normally like this, letting a guy get my legs up like this so soon after meeting them."

He smiled at her little joke. Humor was a good sign. "I won't tell if you won't" he tossed the joke back to her.

Her eyes widened with excitement and fear as Eijiro unbuttoned his shirt. He bought it less than a week ago for his date yesterday with Mina. It was fine silk, the only shirt like it that he owned. There was nothing else nearby that would substitute for a bandage, so it would be sacrificed for Camie's sake. He held her legs up with one hand while the other shrugged off the shirt, then he switched to finish the process.

She uttered a moan when he bit into the shirt, ripping the silk garment in half. His shark-like teeth often earned a negative reaction from people. He hoped that she wouldn't flinch away after seeing just what they could do. "Now hold still…" he muttered as he bound one of her ankles, ignoring how the blood soaked into the silk.

He didn't pay attention to how her blood trickled across his exposed torso. He did not know how that would look to her. Instead, he focused on the task of binding her other ankle. "Holy fuck…" she uttered as he finished his job.

That didn't sound good. "Are you ok? It has to be tight… and we have to keep your legs elevated, at least a bit…" he finally looked up from her ankles to her eyes. His heart skipped several beats at what he was there.

Camie's breathing was evenly paced, yet each breath was deep. Her eyes seemed to rake across his exposed chest and abs. "I have a fucking hot nurse binding my ankles up… yeah, I'll be fine."

Eijiro couldn't help but grin at the compliment. Part of him knew that his muscles were impressive, but he rarely thought of himself as attractive. He spent five days a week on them at the gym, often for two hours per session. To him, these were tools for becoming a professional hero and a way to live up to his personal idol… but he could see a reflection of himself in Camie's eyes, and the image was flattering, to say the least. "I've never been called a hot nurse before, gonna remember that one." He chuckled nervously. "You gonna keep your legs up for your nurse while he examines your other injuries?"

Camie nodded almost eagerly. "For you? Hell, yeah, I'll keep my legs up. It might be hard to do that though unless I had something to rest them on… like a pair of strong muscular shoulders…"

He almost went into a coughing fit when she dropped that bomb into his lap. He didn't know whether blood was going to rush into his cheeks with embarrassment or into his dick with arousal. The correct answer, of course, was both. "Humor is good. Keep it up…. You are joking, right?"

"I'm not the one who needs to keep it up. You'll have to play your cards better than that, though, to know if I'm teasing you or not." Camie winked at him, and he swore that his cheeks felt even hotter.

Eijiro covered his embarrassment with a lopsided grin that probably looked goofy. He knew that however sincere the physical attraction between might be that this was all just a way to cope with their uncertainty. Kamui Woods and the others had disappeared into the apartment building across the bridge in pursuit of the monster that had eviscerated Camie and detached her shadow, leaving him to play nurse and protector.

Just then the two teenagers heard a series of indiscernible shouts from within the building across the street. Whatever was happening in there it probably wasn't good. "Don't worry… Kamui Woods is one of the top ten heroes in the nation. If anyone can beat that monster and get your shadow back, it's him." Eijiro offered what comfort he could even if he barely understood what was happening. He tried to not look up at the sky, something he'd stopped doing hours ago. A monster that can steal shadows and worse things that somehow had stolen the entire sky… he shuddered inside even as he forced the grin on his face to enlarge, projecting false confidence that he only wished he could feel inside.

Movement in Eijiro's peripheral vision captured his attention. He turned his head in time to witness the body of Ingenium evaporate into fine particles of sand and drift away on the breeze, armor and all. Camie's body tensed under his fingers as both momentarily forgot about her injuries, scanning about for other more immediate threats. To their mutual shock, Ingenium's corpse was replaced by a series of small salt carvings. The statues were piled haphazardly where the hero once was, some standing on the concrete bench that once held him up while others lay scattered about.

Kirishima Eijiro tensed as he heard a soft feminine whisper from an unknown source. "You humans cannot survive without your shadow… that tiny seed of darkness planted long ago by the Ebon Dragon… the Shadow of All Things… it tethers you, binding your will down into your body… first, she will lose the ability to dream, then sleep at all… then her reason and ambition will slip away until finally, she goes mad."

Eijiro knew that a demon was whispering to him. Unfortunately, that was all that he knew. His hand moved instinctively to hold onto Camie's as though to comfort and protect her. "Who are you… and why are you telling me this?" he spat the words between sharp gritted teeth.

A single idol rolled towards the two of them as though it had been kicked. Bitterly he realized that is likely what set it in motion. "I am the Shadow Lover." The voice whispered to him. "I am offering you the solution to your problem… the only solution, as you humans have no other means to manipulate shadow substance."

"Eijiro… who are you talking to?" Camie's voice trembled with fear even as he held tightly onto her hand.

There was no time to answer her. "Utter a prayer, a wish… any desire you have at all. Hold the idol of Cecelyne and make your desire known to the Primordials. You have an interesting enough fate that the Arbiter of Prayers will answer you."

The statue was easily within his reach. Eijiro wanted to reach for it but held back. "Why would you help us?"

The world seemed colder for just a moment. Eijiro could almost feel a pair of soft icy lips on his ear. "Nothing is free."

That answer was honest enough that he could trust it. The red-haired deputy reached forward and grabbed up the tiny salt figure. It felt so light in his hand that he feared he would crack it in his grip. The figure it depicted was feminine, but he wasn't sure it could be called a woman except in an abstract way.

A shout from the distance signaled the others were coming back. Both Eijiro and Cami looked over and were glad to see Kamui Woods and Yoarishi Inasa making their way across the bridge… but their elation was short-lived. Their tagalong, Iida Tenya, was not in sight.

"Sir!" Eijiro reported as soon as the professional hero was across the bridge. "I managed to bind the worst of Utsushimi's injuries. After I finished that task, the body of Ingenium evaporated."

Eijiro did not turn his body completely towards the approaching hero. He told himself it was because he wasn't done checking on Utsushimi or her injuries… but his posture and arm position just happened to place his frame between Kamui Woods and the idol in Kirishima Eijiro's hand. A dark part of his heart wondered why he didn't mention the whispering voice to the returning hero.

The older hero nodded solemnly. "We defeated the monster that attacked young Utsushimi and have located where her shadow fell to but can't seem to retrieve it. I've called for advice and assistance on that topic. Unfortunately, Iida Tenya has disappeared… in much the same way as Ingenium."

Yoarishi looked off glumly towards the horizon, saying nothing.

Only after sharing this bit of information did Kamui Woods take in the scattered pile of salt idols. The older hero's eyes went wide with unspoken horror. "Kirishima… you didn't mention the idols that appeared."

When the younger man didn't say anything, Kamui rushed towards him. "Kirishima! Don't tell me… put it down!"

The younger deputy held the idol close to his chest as he leaned protectively over where Utsushimi Cami lay on the rooftop. "No! Not until you tell me… how are we supposed to give Camie her shadow back?! What will happen to her if we can't?!"

"Kirishima!" the other deputy, Yoarishi shouted. "That thing is dangerous! One of those made Tenya disappear! We don't know where he is right now!"

"You think I haven't figured that much out?! I know this thing is dangerous… but look around you! The fucking sky is gone! Camie is injured and she needs our help! What am I supposed to do, just play it safe while the world fucking ends?! What kind of a hero does that?!" Eijiro implored desperately, hoping that the older hero would have some words of wisdom, some alternative solution that didn't involve praying to a demonic god from another dimension.

"Eijiro…" Camie whispered. "Don't go that far for me… I don't want you to disappear… even if it fixes me." Tears streamed down her temples and into her hair, ruining her makeup.

The dam broke within Eijiro's heart, and tears flooded from his eyes. "Camie… we just met hours ago… and you did nothing to deserve what's happened to you. All you did was care for a lost child… you deserve better than this… I just to make you whole again… to heal you and give you your shadow back."

Only when the words left his mouth did Kirishima Eijiro understand his mistake. He could feel the edges of his body flake away into fine sand as he vanished. He could vaguely hear the shouting of Kamui Woods and Yoarishi Inasa… but more importantly, he felt Utsushimi Camie place her hand against his cheek and looked down in time to see that both of their hands remained clasped together as the two teenagers drifted into sand on the wind.

"No!" Kamui Woods rushed forward, vainly attempting to grab them away from whatever force was pulling them apart before his eyes.

Then Kirishima Eijiro and Utsushimi Camie disappeared from our world.

{}

Their team was now just a pair. Before Kamui woods had three deputies and now there was only young Yoarishi. With Kirishima and Utsushimi gone along with Iida Tenya, this was the worst failure Kamui Woods had ever faced… so far.

A dark mist formed suddenly on the other side of the rooftop. Six figures stepped out into reality and the mist receded into nothingness, vanishing as if it had never been there. None of the newcomers appeared to be normal in any way. Four of them were hulking brutes with full-toothed beaks, bulging eyes, and exposed brains. One of the remaining two appeared to be a well-dressed cloud of darkness, peering out from his own shadow substance with glowing yellow eyes. The last was a pale hunched figure covered in grasping hands, one of which concealed his face, except for a large blood-shot eye that gazed menacingly at the lone hero and his deputy.

"Just one hero and one deputy… one lion and one cub… this will make for a poor hunt, but it can't be helped, I guess. Better one than none, eh?" he spoke to his companion as though Kamui Woods wasn't there, as though the pro-hero was beneath their concern.

Instinctively the hero stepped forward, interjecting his body between the newcomers and his remaining deputy. "Who are you? Why are you here? What are you planning?" he shoots out the questions rapidly.

"Noumu… collect those statues." The pale man ignored the hero's questions as he sent one of his goons to their work. "Don't damage them. Those artifacts are extremely valuable."

"You don't want to do that." Kamui Woods warned them. "Those things are unpredictable… volatile. Three people prayed to them in the past hour and all of them disappeared, vanished into thin air. Look…" to his frustration, he was being ignored by the hulking creature as it brought a pile of idols back to the shadowy figure. "Put those down and walk away, and there will be no harm done. No arrests, no crime added to anyone's record. Everyone just walks away."

The pale figure laughed. It was a disturbing sound, more menace than mirth. "That is a boring suggestion. A hero wouldn't make an offer like that unless they were scared. You don't sue for peace unless the outcome is already decided in your head. Noumu! Kill!" the creatures all fell to the new command, entering a formation around their pale leader as he charged forward.

"Stay behind me! We're retreating!" Kamui Woods barked out the orders while projecting confidence and strength. Hero and deputy used their Quirks with beautiful synchronicity, armed with elongated branches and powerful winds, they increased the distance between themselves and the charging villains. "This is Kamui Woods, we have enemy contact at ground zero! I repeat! Enemy contact at ground zero! Six villains! I and my deputy are engaging in a harassing retreat! Backup! We need backup!"

As the two retreated, pulled by Kamui's long-reaching branches, their pursuers moved with alarming speed, consuming the space between them as though their chase was fueled by a ravenous appetite for violence. Whenever Kamui Woods lashed out at them to harass or delay them, their leader would use his own destructive power to corrode and destroy the offending branch while his lackeys gained more ground. Whenever Yoarishi used his wind powers to buffet their pursuers off course or knock them to the ground below, a portal of dark mist would open and deposit the hapless creature back on course.

All of that though was pleasant compared to what came next.

As hero and deputy beat their retreat, they continued to monitor their pursuers. They did not notice the entrapping portal until it was too late. Surprised, Yoarishi Inasa passed through it, propelled by his own Quirk. "No!" Kamui Woods shouted as he reached for his last remaining deputy, extending a branch arm to pull him back to this side of the portal. Then it shut, cutting his branch arm off. It felt like a high-speed saw cleft his arm in half. It wasn't pain that concerned the hero, though.

It was failure. It was loss. Under his watch, every deputy and civilian under his care was being separated and victimized. This had to stop. He had to stop it. Kamui Woods knew that if he didn't stand and fight then young Yoarishi would likely die.

Turning, he slowed his pace by clawing at the rooftop with outstretched roots. He would make his stand here, hoping that he could delay these villains long enough for help to arrive… if not for him, then for the young man that had entrusted his life to Kamui Woods.

{}

A merciless Green Sun beat down on them the moment they reformed in the Endless Desert of Cecelyne. Discarding the forsaken idol that brought them here, Eijiro instinctively leaned over Camie, offering her whatever shade he could. His exposed back burned under the hot gaze of an unrelenting and alien star. The sands gathered around his hands threatened to flay and cook his fingers, reflecting the solar fury back up onto his exposed torso.

His instincts forced him to harden his back and hands, but that did nothing against the merciless heat. Neither the Green Sun above nor the Endless Desert about him cared for his pathetic human efforts to survive.

Partially blinded by windswept sand in his eyes and silver light reflected from the dunes, Eijiro did his best to peer around them. Slowly the scene came into stark focus. A massive idol of salt stood not far from them. Nearby, a blood-soaked altar of stone rested in the shade of that great pillar, tempting him to run before remembering that Camie couldn't move in her condition.

"Where are we?" she asked. Her voice sounded small, like a frightened kitten.

"Nowhere good." He muttered in response to her. "Come one. Let's get to that shade."

Holding her in his arms helped block some of the silver light bouncing off the dunes just below them, letting him see just a bit more clearly. They arrived at the shaded altar just in time to see the last wisps of a silver sand dust-devil evaporate onto the breeze. A pair of ruined glasses lay discarded on the altar as the breeze slowly eroded the singular item of litter into even more sand.

The shade was blessedly cold, at least in comparison to the harsh rays of the sun. The pair fell onto the warm sands, panting, sweating, and grateful that at least here there was shelter from the worst this desert had in store for them.

They were wrong.

Sand shot up from the desert, coating the pillar of salt in layers of texture until it was clothed in a façade of life. Arms stretched out as though to embrace them as an emotionless three-eyed mask regarded them. The gigantic figure dwarfed them, easily three meters tall or perhaps more.

"For thousands of years your world has been silent to me, and now I have supplicants calling on my favors one after the other. How marvelous." The voice rang out like chimes on the wind, more synthetic than human.

Eijiro rose to face the animated idol. Placing himself firmly between it and Camie behind him, he stood firmly like a protective wall. "I'm Kirishima Eijiro. Who are you?"

"This one is polite… that's almost adorable." The thing bemused out loud to itself. "Human, you address Cecelyne, the Endless Desert and the Arbiter of Prayer. You are here because your desires were laid bare before my vast generosity. Pray to me, request my blessings, and I will grant you one thing you desire above all others." The feminine statue offered him a deal that was far too good to be true.

"It's not free though… is it?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Think of it as a loan. It's a blessing now, something you want immediately… and in exchange, I will ask you for a small favor later." The voice sounded amused, yet the mask did not smile. It remained expressionless, lifeless, and unyielding.

"What about me? Why am I here? Are you offering me the same deal?" Camie implored from behind Eijiro's back. He winced, having hoped that she could be left out of this.

"Your fate is of no interest to me, female human. I, therefore, offer you nothing. You are not worth the effort of my power." The masked deity continued to gaze exclusively down at Eijiro and dismissed Camie without so much as a glance. "Now, as to what I can offer…"

Eijiro gritted his teeth hard enough that several of his sharpened incisors caused his gums to bleed, speaking from behind a gnashing maw he declared his intent. "I want to restore Camie's health and her shadow… to exactly the way she was before this whole attack started."

"No… you can wish for anything… and you'll owe this thing a huge debt… no…" Camie barely had the strength to whisper her plea.

He turned to smile at her, making sure to mask all the pain that was in his heart. Even as the weight of his spiritual debt lodged deep into his soul, Eijiro smiled for Camie's sake. "It'll be ok, Camie. I don't mind at all."

"A man who knows exactly what he wants and is willing to pay dearly for it," Cecelyne remarked. "You are my favorite breed of human. The bargain is struck."

The great idol leaned forward, cupping her hands together as a chalice of dark basalt formed within her cupped fingers. Within this nearly black cup swirled a smoky liquid that roiled a seething recoil. It leaned away from the burning light as though too much sunlight would harm it.

Kirishima Eijiro strode forward and took the grail from the hands of the desert goddess. He did not look her in the eye or thank her for the gift. He knew it was a transaction. There was no generosity here, not in this desolate place or in her equally desolate heart. Turning, he bore that smile on his face again as he kneeled next to Camie, offering her mercy and generosity while refusing to ponder what this would mean for himself.

Tears welled in her eyes just long enough to evaporate into dry desert air. "You would sell your soul just to make me well again?" Camie asked, begged, hoping he would reconsider.

Eijiro nodded, grinning down at her. "I'd do it without a second thought." He said.

She sharply inhaled, suppressing tears that threatened to consume this moment. "What did I do to deserve this from you? We only met… it's not even been a full day… I…" she seemed so uncertain, so lost.

"It's simple," Eijiro said.

Camie gazed up at him as though expecting the next words he spoke to be the most profound thing she would ever hear in her life.

"You needed my help, and I decided to give it to you." was all Eijiro said.

It was so simple, but to Camie those words meant everything in the world. Still… she hesitated.

Cecelyne interrupted their exchange, speaking out of boredom more than anything else. "The debt is already incurred. Drink and restore your shadow or spill the grail out on the dunes. Either way, it makes no difference to me."

Eijiro's back stiffened at the idol-queen's words, but his warm smile never faltered. With an encouraging nod, he pressed the chalice forward, urging Camie to take it. When he saw how weak she was he used one arm to help her sit up and take her first sip. The expression on her face told him how bitter and awful the shadow-potion had to taste. She bore through it though and consumed all of it.

Eijiro felt his jaw go slack with amazement. He watched as a shadow emerged from underneath her, stretching to fill out across the sand below her. Bruises and blood retreated along her skin as deep cuts faded from her body. It was as though the wounds were never there. If not for her blood-soaked clothes and the ruined remains of his shirt around her ankles it would be easy to pretend that nothing had ever been wrong.

Watching Camie be restored like this made Eijiro so happy that he almost cried. He was so caught up in the excitement that he forgot about the desert, the Green Sun overhead, or the salt-idol of Cecelyne just a few meters away. His heart leaped with joy as he helped Camie stand up on her own two feet, something he didn't think he'd get to see for a long time.

He was surprised, caught completely off guard. Camie continued her momentum after he helped her stand. Eijiro was frozen with shock as Camie jumped up into his arms and kissed him passionately. Her lips were soft against his. Faint traces of perfume mixed with the smell of her sweat. He was too caught up in the joy of the moment to remember why this could be wrong. His adrenaline-fueled heart was beating rapidly. Everything about this felt right.

However, Eijiro knew that it was wrong. He couldn't let this continue. He couldn't let Camie… let Utsushimi have the wrong idea. He didn't save her for some hope of a reward. That wasn't the man he wanted to be. He was also in a relationship; one he hadn't told her about yet. It would be unfair to her, to himself, and to Mina. Mina… he hadn't thought about her since arriving here, and that made him feel even worse.

He decided to end this as diplomatically as possible. He gripped onto Camie's shoulders and gently pushed her away until the kiss naturally broke. He didn't want to make it awkward or make her feel guilty for kissing someone else's boyfriend. He'd play it off as a fluke, a joke, a one-off. "What was all that?" he asked with a smirk.

Her lips formed into something between a pout and a playful smile. It was adorable… or it would be if Eijiro allowed himself to think about it.

"It's simple," Camie said. She paused for a moment then added: "You helped me in my time of need, and I decided to give it to you."

Eijiro choked on his own inability to process her words. He was caught completely off guard. She didn't say "I decided to kiss you" but instead something far more loaded with nuance. "I decided to give it to you" implied far more. Dangerously more. He was both excited and afraid.

Camie giggled. Oh god, she giggled!

"As entertaining as human mating rituals are," Cecelyne interrupted his thoughts, "it's time for you to leave. I will reach out to you when I have need of you."

Kirishima's heart felt as heavy as a lead weight at her words. What horrifying thing would he have to do for this monster? Before he can think it over any longer, he felt his body disintegrate into fine particles of sand. Camie was disappearing alongside him. The two embraced one more time, offering what comfort they could to each other. Eijiro didn't think hard about it when her lips grazed against his neck. He told himself that he would deal with this later, and to focus on the here and now first.

{}

Yoarishi Inasa was hopelessly lost. He found himself in an apartment building but was uncertain about which one he was in. Was he even within a single city block of his last location? Under other circumstances, he supposed that this spacious apartment would be impressive. Under his current circumstances though this place was a nightmare.

Normally he'd rush to the balcony and take stock of where he was… if not for the monstrosity waiting for him, its bulging eyes locked onto him. It walked forward, breaking the glass panel with little effort. The thing had obscenely long arms that ended with dark metallic claws. Suddenly the spacious living room seemed far too small for Inasa's taste.

The hulking creature rushed towards him, giving Inasa little time to think. In no time at all the tall teenager whipped up a storm of powerful gale forces, venting frustration and rage onto the monster even as he hurled picture frames and furniture at it. The monster anchored itself down through the floor using its powerful claws as it bore the impacts of multiple articles of furniture. Gritting his teeth, Inasa forced the air to move in circular currents even though he was too close for this move to be safe and lashed out at the mutant repeatedly.

Then it screamed at him.

This was not some high pitch human wail. The sound was far too powerful and disorienting, layered, with ultra and subsonic notes that rattled Inasa's bones. The poor teen felt like his eardrums would burst and bleed any moment now. Screaming in return, Inasa increased the power of the gale he summoned. He sent several large chunks of a nearby wall into the creature, hitting it with multiple wooden planks ripped from the structure itself.

Somehow that was enough to stun the creature. The screaming stopped. Inasa knew better than to let things rest as they were. The thing would doubtlessly recover, and far too soon. That pause though allowed him just enough time to take in the entire scene, and he was horrified. Lodged in a hallway nearby, another brain-exposed monster lurked. It had anchored itself in and had molted to reveal what could only be described as a cannon on its back.

The cannon was aimed directly at Inasa. The clawed monster was obviously trying to distract him, and it had worked. There was no more time. With a powerful blast of wind Inasa knocked himself to the side, forcing his way through the wall behind him just in time to avoid the projectile… and was horrified to see that the projectile exploded on contact with the walls, unleashing a sticky good that smoked and sputtered as whatever acid it contained melted the wall into putty.

That was the good news. The bad news was that Inasa had hit several structural studs on his way through the wall and was almost certain that he had dislodged or possibly broken his shoulder. How would he get out of this mess? Where was this? Would Kamui Woods hear him if he called for help?

Injured and cornered in the kitchen, he knew that his situation was dire. The clawed beast had recovered and was charging at him, making a straight shot for the wall he had just launched himself through. Outside of his range of vision, Inasa was certain the cannoneer was preparing the next shot, thankful that the walls would momentarily act as a blockade against the thing's aim.

Only then did he note the other doorway to the kitchen, the one someone installed on purpose. The cannon-monster merely opened the door as it put itself into firing position, even as Inasa was launching kitchen appliances and knives at the creature's frontline companion.

All seemed lost.

The unmistakable roar of jet engines dominated his hearing, drowning out all other sounds. A human-shaped silver comet ripped through the walls of the apartment, moving at a pace too difficult for Inasa to take in given the distracting circumstances. It moved like a thunderbolt, impacting hard into the side of the cannoneer. Inasa couldn't see clearly whether it was a full body slam, a punch, or a kick. Could this person move fast enough to have done all three?

Regardless of how often or how hard the human Jetstream had struck the monster; the end effect was the same. The creature was knocked hard to the side, denting deeply into the wall as it fired haphazardly. The projectile was far off its intended course, impacting the far wall and spraying its clawed ally with the boiling payload.

The silver figure did not stop there.

Before Inasa could take stock of the shifting situation he found himself picked up, impacted by the sudden inertial forces of the armored figure's movement. It all happened to fast that Inasa was certain at least one of his limbs had been dislocated.

Wait. Armor?

Inasa, far closer and moving relative to his rescuer, could finally take in the man's appearance. The silver full-faced armor was unmistakable. It was impossible, yet it was still true.

Ingenium, alive and well, had saved him. How? Inasa wanted to ask. He knew that questions would have to wait, though. "Kamui…" he croaked out the plea, hoping Ingenium would hear him over the roar of the jets and the rush of air about their faces.

"Brace yourself!" the hero called out to him just before the two impacted through a large glass pane and jumped off the proceeding balcony. Jets in Ingenium's arms and legs went into overdrive, their roar turning into a deafening scream. The force of their combined propulsion hurtled the two men together through the air before their thrust was used to ease their descent as the hero turned mid-air with precise manipulation of his Quirk.

Inasa knew it before Ingenium said it. "It's not over yet. Hang on!" before rocketing the two of them to yet another rooftop.

{}

Kamui Woods was isolated against four opponents, unlike anything he had ever been up against before. At almost every opportunity, the dark misted figure created portals to either help his allies dodge Kamui's attacks or to direct Kamui's extended limbs to unknown locations before severing them when the portal would shut. This forced the pro-hero into a purely defensive posture, making him react with tight fast movements that did not give him nearly as much space away from the close-range attackers as he would like. If not for Kamui Woods miraculous ability to regrow this would have turned extremely ugly.

As though it wasn't already.

"Show me what you heroes can do!" the pale-faced villain taunted him as he destroyed a wooden claw with his destructive touch, decaying it into ash before Kamui's eyes. He was flanked by two hulking monsters, each with exposed brains and showing little motivation of their own beyond feral cunning. One of them was growing larger and stronger as it continued to rip apart Kamui's branches only to consume them, using them as fuel for its own growth and power, sating an endless appetite with massive blunt teeth. The other's dark skin was no longer visible as it was engulfed in white-hot fire. The thing tore through Kamui's branches, turning them into torches that the hero was forced to discard, snapping his own limbs or offering the burning ends to be consumed by the hunger-beast.

"Why are you doing this?!" the hero demanded as he tore down a nearby wall, forcing his way to the other side just to get some breathing room. "What do you hope to gain?!"

"Survival." The pale man said, his bloodshot eye wide with excitement, visible even from this distance. The edges of a feral grin were clear even with a detached hand-mask obscuring his face. "I never believed in this society to begin with, so I won't feel sorry to see it go… but I'll not just go down with it."

Anger consumed Kamui Woods. The hero, born Nishiya Shinji, heroically named Shinrin Kamui before rebranding to Kamui Woods, has fought his entire life to make this society a better one. Watching someone betray not just the law but all of society repulsed him to his core. "You intend to be collaborators." he spat out.

"Is that so strange?" the shadow figure in the vest interjected, close enough now that he could join their conversation. "Do you judge collaborators harshly, when in our nation's own history, we made use of them while putting a boot down on the rest of Asia? Indeed, our entire history, from the Warring States to the Meiji Revolution is littered with collaborators… and yet we admire those figures now for their ability to see which way the wind was blowing before their contemporaries."

Before the hero could bark back his reply, the pale man pressed the point further. "Now the boot is on us, so why not try and make the best of it? Why not ally with the alien invaders… and look… they even gave us all the perfect way to get in contact with their leaders!" he held up one of the salt idols to illustrate his point like it was a simple toy radio rather than the horrible construct Kamui Woods knew it to be.

"Stop this madness! They're demons! They're not aliens! To them, we're just prey, not people! It's insane to work with them!" he pleaded his case desperately to them, taking advantage of the brief pause in their violence. Villains could often be counted on to have discussions like this, even with awkward mid-combat timing. The human desire to be understood was useful for that.

That didn't mean that Kamui Woods was safe. Even as the discussion continued, the villains moved in to surround him, prowling slowly into position as he found himself backing away.

"It's insane not to work with them!" the grey man shouted back. "Did you see what they did to All Might?! We've been puzzling out how to kill him for years, and just two of them nullified his power and captured him!" He said this while scratching hard at his own neck. "Capture is so much more difficult than killing when the target is such a powerful hero… We're outclassed… and I refuse to wait on the sidelines while you heroes squander our chance to negotiate a better deal."

Kamui Woods couldn't help but scoff. "A deal? They want to enslave us… or eat us… the things they've done to civilians already…"

The villain cut off his diatribe about the atrocities. "I know." The pale man said. He spoke those words so calmly that they were haunting, a sharp departure from his previous manic excitement.

"What?" Kamui Woods said, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"I know what they've done." The hand-masked figure continued. "And… I don't care… or rather… that's why I care so much. I don't want to be fodder… I want to carve out a nice place for myself… middle management maybe? Oh! I know! Human resources! That has a better ring to it." he snapped his fingers as that last bit of inspiration struck him.

Terrible knots formed inside Kamui Woods' torso as anger roiled within him. "You'd sell out your own species?" he asked far more calmly then he felt. He was too blinded by rage to monitor all his escape options.

The ash-faced man slowly clapped at the hero, reveling in his shock. "You're fucking right I would. Maybe… maybe they'd appreciate an offering when I contact them, them being demons after all. Kurogiri… make sure that kid we separated off is captured alive. We might need to perform a ritual sacrifice to get a good deal."

Something deep within Kamui Woods snapped.

"Don't you touch him!" Kamui Woods launched himself fully at the villains, swearing to take out as many of them as possible no matter the consequences for himself.

An entire forest of strength launched forward from within Kamui Woods. Tree limbs with the power to rend concrete into dust, branches, and vines whipping out with enough speed to trap moving vehicles. With everything he could muster, Kamui Woods flourished and grew outward toward the villains in a sudden onslaught of botanical fury.

Fire. The one that ignited itself launched forward, meeting strength with heat and flame. Branches cracked and snapped as the water within them evaporated instantly, then burst into dancing orange flames. Undaunted by this, Kamui Woods pressed forward, smothering the offending creature. He'd put out the fire and life in a single crushing blow.

Consumption. The ravenous giant lumbered towards the rooftop forest, grabbing and feasting as it waded through tree after tree. Sharp branches moved to impale the monster even as vines moved to strangle its exposed neck. With a loud roar, Kamui Woods used his powers to pick the hulking mass of flesh and gluttony from the rooftop, twisting it until the thing started gnawing on its own foot.

Insanity. The ash faced man rushed forward between his two flanking assistants. His touch killed branch after branch, causing them to erode into grey ash. Lacking a specific strategy against this man, Kamui Woods unleashed an onslaught of branches and vines articulated enough to ensure that even as dozens were destroyed more would rise to fill the ranks. The face-masked man had to contend with a hydra of fury and wood, growing faster than he could destroy it. Yes, this way Kamui Woods could in fact overwhelm even this opponent, until he could pin his and render his touch-based Quirk useless.

Death.

The others, from the ash-faced man's inciteful speeches to the brutal three-pronged attack… all of them were nothing but distractions for Kamui Woods to vent his rage on. A single well-placed portal was all it took. The dimming light from the greenlit sky overhead was the only warning Kamui Woods received.

One portal descended over his head and tightened around his neck… decapitating Kamui Woods in a single deadly stroke.

Time slowed down for Nishiya Shinji. His thoughts sped up. Words left unsaid poured through his mind. Faces he would miss flashed across his vision. Friends he wished he had known better emerged at the forefront of his thoughts.

The last thing he saw before darkness took him was the view from where his head landed… of Ingenium escaping with his last remaining deputy, young Yoarishi. Uncomprehending, he merely accepted this as a fact. He allowed his eyes to close, feeling just one less regret than before, as he wept a long tear of sap.

It was a small victory, but he was glad to have it.


	21. Hope in the Wicked City

At long last, Ochako found relief. After running into the rest station meant for nature enthusiasts and tourists, she was glad that the power was still on and that the facilities were clean.

As she washed her hands, Ochako took the time to look over her reflection. The woman looking back at her made Ochako frown. She was certainly not looking her best. Her clothes were basically ruined, torn in places and dirty everywhere else. Her face showed just how exhausted Ochako was after running for close to thirty hours on nothing but willpower. The only sleep she had gotten in the past day was a short nap while kneeling on asphalt, and her blackened knees complained at the memory. She didn't remember how long ago her lunch was, but her stomach complained loudly that it had been forever ago.

Ochako set all of those wants and needs aside as she washed her face and under her arms at the sink. The simple act of cleaning herself made her feel far more human and complete than she had been just moments ago. No, not just human. Ochako felt like herself, more so than she had in a long time. She felt a deep sense of purpose in what she and Izuku were doing, and that purpose made her feel prouder of herself than she had ever known throughout her life.

"Time to go save the world," she told her reflection. Ochako strode out to the abandoned parking lot, finally taking in how utterly empty the place was. She hadn't really noticed on their way here with Izuku's speed and her own biological needs screaming at her, but now the emptiness of this place was obvious and jarring to her. The lot was large, capable of holding several buses end to end while making room for cars. The only vehicle left was the incline railcar, patiently waiting for passengers that might never come.

The gigantic Chrysalis lay not far from her, shedding emerald light around itself. From her outside vantage, it looked vaguely like a bubble of radiance, an aura so thick with light that the air would be palpably different inside. Even with the sky lit up with soft green light, Izuku's bonfire lit up the world like a lone candle in the darkness.

As her eyes readjusted to looking at that radiance, she saw the most curious thing. Izuku was grabbing snacks out of the nearby vending machines. No. He was raiding those machines. Broken glass had scattered across the concrete from his efforts and he was filling his hands with quite an assortment of snack bars and drinks. She thought of scolding him for it until she saw his name carved into the side of one of the machines alongside a simple message: "Sorry."

"Wow, that is a lot of snacks. So, did you suddenly get hit with a case of the munchies, Izuku?" she couldn't help but smile as she asked him.

His smile was shy and sheepish. He looked almost embarrassed. It was cute. "Actually… I don't need to eat. Or, at least this version of me doesn't need to. I was grabbing all of this for you... I kind of thought you'd be hungry by now."

She stood there staring at him and all the snacks overflowing from his hands. He had done all of this for her when he didn't even feel hunger. He probably remembered what hunger felt like, but there was no gnawing reminder inside of him. His efforts, as much as they were an act of vandalism, were completely selfless and thoughtful. "Why do you have to be so perfect?" she whispered with the barest of breath.

Her heart compelled her, demanding action. Ochako decided then and there that she wasn't going to wait for the world to be saved. When would she ever meet another man like him? No. There were no other men like Midoriya Izuku. If she didn't act now, then she'd lose her chance later. Either they'd fail and the world would end, or they'd succeed and Izuku would become the most famous and most sought-after man on the planet.

It was either now or never, and Ochako chose now.

Could this be love? Ochako knew that it was much too soon to tell, yet she knew this feeling deep in her breast was the closest she'd ever felt to true love in her life. It was like a fire had consumed her heart and the bellows of a forge pumped fire instead of blood through her body. It was as complete a feeling as the adoration shared with family, but it took on a dimension she had no familiarity with.

Desire.

Ochako had let go of so many opportunities and wants in her life. She had saved and worked while her friends at school went out for fun and excitement… and boys. She had missed out on so many experiences with boys, all growing awkwardly into men now. Now, more than anything else, she wanted… no, she desired Izuku. Even if she could only have him for a moment, she needed him in a way she had never needed anything before, an opportunity that she absolutely could not pass up. Even if this spark of emotion lead to nothing, even if it just became a brief fire that would sputter out, she knew that she'd regret it forever if she didn't act.

If she was more honest with herself, she'd have admitted exactly what kind of moment she wanted to share with him.

Ochako strode toward Izuku with purpose, a smile on her lips as she swallowed back her nervousness. Whatever remark he was about to make died in his throat as she stepped boldly into his personal space. Refusing to hesitate, she stood on her toes and reached up to embrace him, pulling his face down to meet hers.

Ochako's heart fluttered with the excitement that lies between life and death as Izuku's arms moved to wrap around her, snacks and all. She shivered as a cold can of soda pressed on the small of her back, contrasting against Izuku's warmth. Just a few more centimeters, she tells herself, yet this last distance feels so much more difficult to cross than the entire walk towards him.

Ochako was so grateful that Izuku crossed those last few centimeters for her. He grazes gently against her lips at first, before they each lean ever so slightly as they allow instincts to drive the kiss deeper. His lips were hot and dry like she remembered, made of light and air, yet this felt nothing like when she had breathed into him earlier. This felt fulfilling. This felt right.

The kiss lasted longer than any Ochako had shared before, but it was still too short. They didn't part suddenly, but gradually, as she descended back to her heels.

"If I had known how much you like candy and soda, we'd have stopped quite a while ago," Izuku teased. The grin on his lips was gorgeous.

She smirked while giving his shoulder a light punch, marveling that if felt almost like punching sun-warmed granite. Returning her hand to embrace him, she rested it on the back of his neck, tracing her fingers on the scars of his etched tattoo. "It's not the candy and soda… it's you. You have so much else on your mind… saving the whole world… and you still took the time to think about me and whether I was hungry or not. Izuku… I'm still figuring this out, but I think I might be falling for you."

Izuku's smile slowly faded as he regarded her seriously, his eyes almost unreadable. There was warmth there, but something else too. Worry? Doubt? What was he thinking? A tiny dagger of fear felt like it was shaving ever closer to her heart, threatening to slice into her with a rejection unlike any she had ever experienced.

Izuku moved his hands from their embrace and tried to hand her the candy and soda, but Ochako kept her arms upon his frame, refusing to let him go. He let loose a small sigh and bent at the knees before setting his stolen goods down on the pavement. Ochako pouted when his actions broke their embrace.

Izuku stood and took hold of her hands in his much larger ones, making her feel so small and fragile. "It's a bit soon for you to say that Ochako," he said.

Ochako inhaled a bracing breath as she bit on her lower lip, preparing to hear the worst. Her heart was falling in her chest and she was scared that she might cry. He squeezed her hands gently, warmth passing from his fingers into her. "Tell you what," Izuku continued. "Let's just take this slow and see where it goes, ok?"

His words registered, but to Ochako they were nonsense. "Wait, what? You want to take it slow at the end of the world? Izuku, it doesn't feel like there's enough time to take anything slow."

Izuku caressed her face and bent at his knees to bring his face closer to hers. The hand that was still holding onto hers moved, pulling her hand up to his chest. He held her hand firmly under his without saying a word. Ochako felt his hard and powerful muscles, marveling at the shape and density of his pectorals… but the longer he held her hand there the more she understood. There was no heartbeat at her fingertips, just Izuku's emanating warmth.

Izuku's caring expression was bittersweet for Ochako. "I don't want to lead you on, Ochako. I'm Izuku… but you also know that I'm not Izuku. After he gets out of there… he'll have changed quite a bit past the changes I've already gone through. I get to sample his power, but not his experiences or his memories... I only remember what he does up to the point that he made me. I don't want you to fall in love with someone who… who won't last."

Ochako shook her head, not wanting to listen to this. "You're talking like you're going to die."

His smile was so sad that her heart broke. No… no, she wanted to scream. "In a way, I am. No matter what happens, when Izuku stops feeding essence into the Charm that keeps me alive, I'll cease to exist. If we succeed at this, then hopefully he'll reabsorb my memories and I'll live on as part of him… but I won't be just me anymore. Do you understand?"

"Hopefully?" she could barely whisper the word. Ochako thought back to when Izuku was helpless in her arms, the chain that sustained him cut and dangling/limp on the street. Things still could end that way, with some battle cutting one Izuku from the other or… or worse. She knew now that it really could always get worse. Yet now even the best-case scenario felt unsatisfying.

It wasn't fair. She had met someone kind, and generous, and sexy… and he was going to die no matter what she did. It wasn't fair! "But he'll remember everything that you do… and you'll be part of him… so anything you remember about me, he will too, right?"

He nodded, dimples forming as his smile grew larger, yet his eyes were still so sad. "Yes, exactly."

Without even thinking about it Ochako's hand over his heart formed into a determined fist, grabbing up the shadowy material of his shirt as though she was claiming him. "Then it's simple… I just need to be awesome enough to make you fall in love with me. Then your love will survive… like a candle protected in his heart."

Izuku looked over to the giant Chrysalis and the aurora dominating the sky. "You want to start a romantic relationship with a man who won't exist anymore… and you want to do it with this as our romantic backdrop?"

Before Ochako could respond her stomach loudly interrupted her. After letting go of Izuku's shirt she bent down and picked up a large candy-bar, not even caring what brand it was. It tasted wonderful, but she knew that the flavor was likely her own hunger begging her to eat. "It's not ideal, Izuku… but this is all we have." She said, trying to speak as clearly as possible with a large chunk of chocolate in her mouth. "So, let me eat up as much of this as I can, as quickly as I can… then let's save the city, ok? Maybe after that… we'll think of something."

Ochako let the thought what "something" could be hanging in the air. She wasn't going to suggest making love in the open mountain air, but if that's what it took to make this man remember her forever, to make his existence one that the other Izuku could never forget, she'd talk herself into it if that's what he wanted. If he asked… but would he ask that of her?

"If this is what you want, well then… Later, I'll think of something for us to do," Izuku said. Ochako swallowed hard when his smile grew large enough to show his fangs. It occurred to her that she had no idea what kind of a blank check "something" might entail to him, or what he might ask from her. Her heart trembled with excitement, not knowing where this would lead.

Slow down, she told herself. Don't choke on a chocolate bar. Get this in your stomach, save the world… then worry about… something. Her lips couldn't help but curl upward into a smirk. She'd done it. She had told Izuku about her newborn feelings for him… and he didn't turn her away. Sure, he had tried to persuade her to hold off, but… he wanted her, she realized. He didn't say it directly, but the way he cared for her, his unspoken gestures, his protectiveness of her safety and her feelings. All of it pointed to a heart of gold, and somehow in the short time since they had met, they each had a piece of the other's heart.

When she had finished two somewhat healthier snack bars and downed two cans of soda, she marveled at the pockets that suddenly formed in Izuku's pants. He filled them with more supplies for her before holding out his hand to her. "Ready to go save the world, Ochako?"

Ochako's eyes welled with tears. "With you? Always," she said as she rushed forward to take his hand.

{}

Third Daughter was a small girl, underfed and overworked. She was smart enough not to ask what happened to her two older sisters or why she had no brothers. Life in Malfeas was hard. By the Malfean calendar, at fifteen months per year, she supposed she was eight years old, though she did not know what day she was born or even the month. She didn't have the worst fate a slave could have, at least not yet, but she was far from the top of the human pyramid, let alone the deva hierarchy.

Her masters, a pair of scorpion tailed Tinsiana, called her according to her task. Usually, her name-of-the-day was some variation of maid or wash-girl. Third Daughter dreaded the days that she was called Dishwasher. Those were the days that she was called into the kitchens. There she saw the fates of slaves that the masters no longer deemed useful, or simply looked too delicious. A slave was often served up if an important guest was expected. Lesser meats simply would not do if a high-ranking deva dined in their master's hall.

Today she was called one of the worst names of all. "Coinpurse," was the name she woke up to as they called down to her in the basement where she slept with the others. It meant that she was going to be taken to the market today. Third Daughter shivered with fear throughout her bath, despite the warmth. Shaving her head was especially difficult with how nervously tremulous her hands were. It made her glad that she wasn't old enough to have to remove hair anywhere else. She scrubbed her brown-red skin until she felt her hide was about to bleed. Devas always demanded perfection in that regard. It was mandatory that she be thoroughly clean for any prospective buyer to examine her. Third Daughter briefly considered drowning herself or slitting her own throat.

Instead, she set the dagger down for the next slave to use and gargled her acid-rinse before scrubbing her teeth clean. No doubt numerous fingers would poke and prod her mouth as she was examined for any possible defects. It was a funny thought that the devas would pore over her so thoroughly when she had never seen her own reflection.

Third Daughter would never see Matron again, the last family that she had left. They weren't related by blood beyond hailing ancestors from the same conquered world. Matron simply did her best for all the younger slaves in the household. Her advice and interference had kept Third Daughter alive more times than the girl could keep track of. Matron had stepped in to be there for her when her actual mother had been sold off and distracted her with tasks out in the yard the day her father had been slaughtered and butchered. It wasn't because of an important guest that time. The meat locker was simply too empty.

The worst part was knowing that the devas didn't need food to survive. They could all stop eating for centuries on end and be no worse for it. For them, it was only for culinary pleasure, a luxurious indulgence. They didn't have human needs, yet they cravingly ate human meat with enough regularity that even the slaves wondered at their own flavor.

Emerging from the baths, Third Daughter saw that a simple white hooded robe was laid out for her. The linen was finer than any she had ever worn. Wearing this, she had no doubt that she would be dramatically unveiled before a crowd of expectant buyers. Putting the robe on was frightening to her, a prelude to the vulnerable nudity she would endure as monsters bid on her… or worse, didn't.

Practical and wise, Matron had told her many stories to memorize and hide in her heart, pearls to conceal for moments like this. Distant tales like the fall of the Helgenkan Empire when the Devas invaded, to useful advice when dealing with deva overseers. "Never look them in the eye. Keep your head bowed low. Never use complicated words near them. Never express an interest in writing, or history, or magic. Most of all, never trust the ones that look human, least of all the ones they call Princes." Matron's soft yet firm voice commanded this exact lesson into her more times than Third Daughter could count.

"Princes are beautiful," she had been warned, and "Long ago they were human once, but all of them down to the last were and always will be monsters."

One Prince stirred Matron's emotions more than any other. "The Crimson Prince, first and foremost of his kin, conquered Helgenka after luring the Empire with honeyed words as sweet as any whispered by the Father of Lies." The old woman spat as she spoke, unable to disguise her revulsion.

"Then, when the Imperial Family had sworn unbreakable oaths to him and the citizens ate the never-ending food he supplied to the people, he turned them all over to the devas as slaves. Chattel." Each time she told the tale, Matron allowed that horrid word to sink in and would always tap her fingers on the brand on her left breast, identical to the one next to Third Daughter's hip. "To be eaten or prayer-driven once their working years were done. Cities burned and any who resisted were devoured as war rations for the invading army. The entire world was torn asunder on the endless forge-fields of Malfeas, used to make more weapons and more walls for the ever-expanding city. Destroyed like so many worlds before and so many since."

Matron's eyes were filled with a madness that only ancestral rage could fuel. "Never forget that this place is built on the mortar of human corpses and human worlds. Never put faith in them, the traitors of all mankind. Their kindness is always a prelude to treachery and violence. The devas abuse us, but it was the Princes who sold us all into bondage. We pay the price for their power. They are the true demons of this world."

Matron would lean back, letting Third Daughter's pulse slow from the pitch induced by her elder's anger. Calmly, she'd always continue with a simpler lesson. "Be like your dear Matron, yes, like me. Remember and harden your heart but hide it. Be useful but be smart. Cultivate difficult skills. Put yourself in debt to the greater among the devas. They won't want you dead so long as there is still some value they haven't collected yet."

Third Daughter couldn't bring herself to follow all of Matron's advice. Even now as the two spoke farewells to each other, Third Daughter could not help but gape at the woman's expanding midsection. Matron exuded fertility and the promise of new life. The pregnancy was false, though, born of parasitism instead of intimacy. Stomach Bottle Bugs needed a host to live in, allowing themselves to be transported in artificial vessels only for the shortest of trips. Matron's diet of Wasp Honey was for the preferences of the masters swimming in her gut, not her own desires. One day the woman would likely be pickled in the stuff as a mollified delicacy. Third Daughter shuddered at the thought.

All the words they ever exchanged and her Matron's face were behind her now. Now they were off to the market. For the sake of the other slaves in the house, Third Daughter hoped that she fetched a good price. Maybe coin from her purchase would be used to fill the larders, or at least she hoped. She often got the sense that her masters were struggling financially, but she didn't know the details. Most of all though, she hoped that she wouldn't be sold to the slaughterhouses or to the cult. Either of those would mean a painful death. Any other fate, even the breeding pits, would be preferable. She knew better than to pray for the result she wanted. In Malfeas, you never knew who or what was listening to your prayers.

Daeluss, the large reptilian thug that oversaw the slaves, would be her handler for the sale. Her actual owners were far too busy with their work to fuss over saying goodbye to a household appliance. The chain around her neck was secured onto the brace at his wrist, anchoring her to him. A single hard pull from his massive arms would be enough to snap her neck.

The streets were crowded, far more so than on any errand she had been on before. She was glad that her robe was hooded, shielding her from the harsh Green Sun. The sky was clear today. No acid or blood rains were in the forecast it seemed, a good day to go to the markets. Was that why it was so crowded?

No, she soon found out. The crowds loitered about near the great stone-carved gate, Charybdis. She had never seen the gate open, not in all eight years of her short life. There were many gates to and from Malfeas, but this one was famous for allowing entry but never an exit. Once Charybdis allowed you to pass, the power of the gate would bar you from leaving until the Primordials granted you permission to leave. The great maw opened sideways, the teeth of the inner gate withdrawing into the stones of the grave-wall. Who could it be? What was entering the city through such an infamous gate?

The crowd thronged forward, lurching like a mass of trees in a strong wind. Instruments played. Shouts echoed through the crowd. Her handler paused from his role as overseer long enough to peer over the heads of his fellow devas. She had never seen the devas act like this before. Was an Unquestionable here? She couldn't think of anything else that could cause so much uproar.

And then, for just a moment, she saw him. He was everything that Matron had warned her against. He was tall, strong, and beautiful. He was the most human and the most inhuman thing she had ever seen. His bronzed skin was flawless, and his smile though fanged was generous and gracious. His eyes shone with green fire and love. His hair could have been finely woven from emeralds spun on the ephemeral gem-looms of Naragumo's spawn, it was so green and vibrant. A single shining jewel shone like a star from between his brows as he gracefully strode through the crowd. There was no mistake. This was a Prince.

Before she knew what compelled her or what she was doing, she pulled her hood back and reached forward, wishing for just a single moment. Ignoring all her lessons throughout all her years, she desperately wanted the Prince to notice her. If she was going to be sold or worse today, she wanted him to see her and remember her. She wanted to be pictured somewhere in his mind for all of time. Third Daughter wished against all odds that she could compete against devas far more beautiful and more enticing than a human girl could ever be… and then, finally honest with herself, her spirit cried out as tears flooded from her eyes. She didn't want to be remembered. She wanted to be saved!

"Please save me," she silently prayed, directing her prayers to the Prince in front of her. She knew that she could never out-shout the great throng. But humans could do one thing better than any deva could. It was what humans were designed to do: pray. "Please, see me. Please, save me. I'm going to be sold or eaten or killed in the great prayer fields as a sacrifice… please, look at me!" Her heart begged so loud in her head that it sounded like screams within her mind.

Then his eyes fell on her, and Third Daughter was filled with a desperate emotion that she had never known before. She did not know the name of this feeling. No one had ever taught it to her. It was painful and beautiful all at once, and so very frightening. She wanted this feeling to last forever and to end as soon as possible.

The expression on the Prince's face was one of amazement and pain. It lasted only for a moment, but that was long enough for her overseer to pull on her chain and break her vision away from the shining face that exhilarated untouched parts of her heart. Daeluss pulled roughly on her robes, covering her head. Normally, she'd be relieved to hide from the sun's terrible light… but now all she wanted was to be visible to the Prince. She knew better than to defy her handler and bowed her head like she had been taught.

His voice was like gravel pouring from a trough. "Come, we have dallied too long. Hurry your steps, Coinpurse."

"Yes, master deva." She replied, remembering she was unworthy to speak a master's name.

{}

Izuku trailed the demon and his leashed slave-girl, keeping a respectable distance. This did not award him any stealth in which to conceal himself. Celebrities cannot tail anyone effectively, especially not on the day of their grand debut. Izuku's efforts were twofold. He needed to keep track of the pair, but he was silently communicating with his other half. Sending Morse signals in English was mentally taxing. Before he had done this while focusing solely on the task, but now he had to contend with crowded demon-ridden streets.

Bursting forward through the crowd to rescue the girl would raise too much suspicion. Izuku needed a plan. The drone of noise up ahead told him that he was running low on time. Soon they would arrive at one of the slave markets. That would be terrible, both because rescuing her with so many prospective buyers around would be even more outlandish behavior for a Prince, as well as the fact that if he saw enough human suffering packed into one place then he'd probably lose control in other ways as well.

No. It would be better to rescue one child and pass it off as a Princely eccentricity than go on a humanitarian crusade. If he roused too much curiosity from his actions, it could mean his death and Earth's downfall. Objectively, he knew it would be better to focus entirely on Earth, continue with his mission, and forget the child. Izuku couldn't do that, though. Those dark pleading eyes and the tiny hand reaching out towards him haunted him and would torment the rest of his days if he turned away now.

Passing the stalls around him gave him the opportunity to read more and more examples of the Malfean number system. Prices on most goods were clearly marked. Curiously, they were noted in several currencies, and the preferred method of payment might change from shop to shop or street to street.

One currency symbol though remained consistent. The Malfean words for All Thing were very telling. Somewhere, some time ago, it seems the Princes had taken on the task of simplifying the Malfean currency system. Was it a unified effort or was it the pet project of just a handful?

No matter. Izuku had learned enough. These were the prices that he paid the most attention to, gleaning a sense of the unseen coin's value against all manner of spices, tools, and fabrics. If he stalled to gather more information, though, then his procrastination could cost the child dearly. It was time.

"Excuse me, yes, you there!" he called out to the tall demon.

The demon paused, watching Izuku approach with a mixture of fear and respect. The child stood behind where the demon's grip on her chain could remain obscured. Izuku tried not to think of how much training it would take to turn a child into an obedient dog. The thought disgusted him, a feeling he needed to swallow for now. If this plan could work, it could only do so if he played the part.

"How may I serve you, my Prince?" the demon asked, bowing his head to Izuku's approach. Their interaction drew many eyes. No doubt there were powers beyond those arrayed here watching and listening, gauging Izuku's every move.

Izuku pointedly looked up at the demon's face, ignoring the child despite every instinct roaring in his skull. The creature had large snake-like eyes and a reptilian beak. Its limbs appeared supremely flexible, as though each was a serpent-spined mass of muscle rather than a true appendage as Izuku knew them. "I am newly arrived in the city and wish for an escort. Please, take me to the Palace of the All Thing." He smiled as he made the request, though they both knew it was also a demand.

The gigantic creature swallowed hard. "My Prince, I am currently on my way to the markets just beyond the great spire. I was asked by…"

Izuku interrupted the creature flatly. "I'm sorry, but I don't recall asking about your personal errand. Was the task given to you by a ranking citizen? Is it a duty-bound order… or are you refusing me for a job of personal profit between the serfs?"

Izuku watched the creature sputter awkwardly. His instincts had been correct. The sad truth about Malfeas was that this was a place where the powerful demanded service from the weak and paid them nothing. Humans were merely on the bottom, but the demons just above them passed down abuses that were heaped on them just as unfairly and just as brutally. It did not make their lot in life any better, but it offered brief solace as they inflicted their impotent pain onto someone else.

Wasn't that the way of all abuse, be it personal or systemic? Wasn't it all just an endless cycle, a game of passing a hot rock around instead of finding a way to put it down? Izuku almost laughed bitterly at the thought.

"Her owners asked me to sell her at the markets." It was the first acknowledgment either of them made to the human girl, the one Izuku still had not looked at.

"So, a set of fellow serfs, then. You're refusing a Prince's request because of a desire for coin." Izuku had the sense to appear offended. He understood on some level that demons weren't paid for their intended functions, their obligations to their overlords. The entire currency-based economy of Malfeas was an afterthought of second and third jobs. Then again, demons didn't have to worry about certain bills that plagued humans, such as food.

"Of course not, my Prince. I was merely… there are better devas for this task and…" the large creature stuttered. For a moment, Izuku allowed his eyes to wonder with an air of annoyance on his features. He accidentally allowed his eye to pass over the girl's face and saw a sense of wonderment there. It seemed likely that no one had ever made a demon appear this foolish in front of her. He moved his eyes away from her face before his emotions could crack.

Izuku had had enough, both in this farce and truly in his own human disgust for the monster in front of him. His eyes glowed with power and he pulled hard on the spiritual chains that bound the demon to any superior in the hierarchy of Malfeas. The Demonic Primacy of Essence worked strongly in Izuku's favor as he laid out the order into the demon's hide. "Escort me by the most efficient means to the All Thing Infernal."

Baring his teeth, Izuku added the appropriate social pleasantry: "Now."

{}

The trip to the great collection of palaces known as the All Thing Infernal was awkward for all three of them. Firstly, it was a long trek that required hours of travel time regardless of the best travel methods possible, including teleporting through waypoint gates reserved for citizens or above. Having a serf and a slave with him garnered unwanted attention, but the Prince's annoyed expressiveness kept any interference to a minimum.

Secondly, Izuku continued to ignore the slave and her chain-collar. She, likewise, kept her gaze down at the ground. The few times Izuku allowed his eyes to pass over her, she was either caught in amazement at wonders of the city that she had never been allowed to see before or trembling in fear.

Lastly, the demon was doing his damned best to be a good escort, fearing that a sub-par job would incur the Prince's wrath. The poor fool had no idea that Izuku wanted to kill him for a reason so obvious that the demon clearly couldn't think of it. He'd blithely point out various sights or wonders as though that act would earn the graces of Prince Izuku. His efforts were met with stoic indifference.

At last, they arrived at the gates of the All Thing. Fifty-one massive palaces arranged in the pattern of an inverted lotus were arrayed before them. Technically, each palace beyond the central structure was referred to as a Princely Apartment, but the truth was far grander. Those with wealth and power often show off by taking up as much room as possible for their personal space, and the Princes of the Green Sun exemplified this behavior more than anyone Izuku had ever met or imagined.

The grounds alone were an expansive array of walled gardens each with fountains, ball fields, fighting pits, and any number of untold luxuries hidden away from casual viewers. Gigantic demons that resembled praying mantises wandered the gardens, pruning and tending to the plant life and likely the security. Blood apes patrolled the outer walls and stood by the various gates. Each palace seemed well attended. Good. This would fall well within Izuku's plan.

"Come." He said to his awkward companion before the demon could find an excuse to leave. "Let me reward you for going out of your way for me." Izuku strode forward through the gates before the serpentine demon could object. The crunching of two pairs of footsteps behind him on the gravel pathways was the only confirmation Izuku needed that the chain-linked pair was still following him.

From this point on a strange sensation of familiarity guided Izuku's steps. Without asking he knew exactly which of these palaces was his. He was both delighted and troubled at how luxurious and grand it was. The fountain in the front garden sputtered to life as they approached, spewing wine into the air. The front entryway was shielded by a translucent crystal awning that diluted the intensity of the sun's heat and unrelenting light. A crowd of several hundred could have stood comfortably under that awning. Instead, it was just the three of them and two great apes guarding the front gates. How many supplicants and petitioners had his predecessor received if the waiting area outside the gate was this luxurious? How long would a demon be expected to wait out here if the Prince that designed this thought to make their wait so comfortable?

A small demon that reminded Izuku of a grasshopper rushed forward towards them. "Oh! My Prince! We were not expecting you so soon! We still are making so many preparations for you! Oh! But… yes, please… um…" the thing fretted as it walked rapidly towards them, never breaking into the indignity of a full run. It bowed low, as was expected of any demon assigned to Izuku's personal retinue.

"Enough. I wish to review my property before continuing my trek to meet with Ligier. This deva… whose name I forgot." Izuku gestured towards the tall lizard, realizing he had never asked for the creature's name. "Buy the slave from him. Double what she's worth, but only if he agrees to keep to himself his… assistance in getting me here. It's an embarrassing tale I'd sooner forget." He waved off the matter as an afterthought, passing the diminutive creature as he strode onward towards his palace.

This was for the best, he told himself. He did not want to make a scene of personal attachment to the girl. It all had to look like he didn't truly care. Gritting his teeth, he swallowed his emotions and continued as though he didn't want to grab her up and run. Even this garden, palace grounds supposedly reserved for him alone, even this was a dangerous place. All his staff were demons. Every servant was just another potential set of eyes and ears for the Yozis. This place was a gilded cage meant to keep him comfortable and obedient to their plans.

"Master!" he heard the girl call out from behind him, interrupting his thoughts. Izuku couldn't believe that the girl had called to him. He didn't expect that she had enough willpower to do something so bold.

Izuku stopped dead in his tracks.

"You dare address the Prince?!" he heard the great lizard beast roar.

Izuku moved like lighting, turning and running far faster than even he understood. His body moved in its own, accelerating towards her before his rational mind could stop it all from happening. He was there, standing like a pillar as he interjected himself between the girl and the demon's giant fist.

Izuku took the blow without flinching, his face contorting into loose sand before reforming back to its original composition. As tempted as he was to strike the monster dead, he was satisfied with this result.

For now.

"I… my Prince… I am so sorry!" the demon had the good sense to back away, fearing the consequences of what he had just done.

Predatory rage consumed Izuku's features. "You almost damaged my property. The moment I laid claim to her, she became mine. Is that clear?" he dripped the words slowly like venom from a well-coated blade.

The demon, large as he was, had been cowed into utter subservience. He knelt onto the ground, his knee impacting hard into the gravel pathway. "I meant no disrespect, great Prince. Please pardon my stupidity."

"Hold yourself there and endure waiting while I see what the human's outburst was for. That will be your punishment." As much as Izuku wanted to kill this beast and taste its death, he restrained himself from his violent desires. Shame would be just as powerful a tool here as execution. Perhaps more so.

The palace attendant wisely remained still and quiet as Izuku's gaze swept past him and onto the chained girl. The collar on her neck had clearly chafed her from the bruising beyond its edges. "Now. Speak, girl. What compelled you to call out to me?"

"Please, my Prince," she began, keeping her gaze firmly on the ground. "I mean no disrespect, but… I trust you to evaluate my worth more than any other. I'm young. I have not started my breeding cycle… my mother bore me last and named me Third Daughter. I am sure I will be just as fertile…"

Izuku felt cold air on his eyes as they widened in astonishment. How thoroughly had the slaves in Malfeas been indoctrinated, that a child would haggle up her own price?

His amazement turned to shock as she pulled off her robe to reveal that her only garment beneath was a simple cloth strip wrapped multiple times to offer her the barest of modesty. It was tied with a single knot near her hip… where her owners had branded her with their names. "I am without blemish, save the one I deserve. I am skilled at scrubbing floors and dishes, and I can run far for your errands…"

Izuku sensed something was amiss by the flinching glances the two demons spared to the child. Was talking her price up like this unusual? "Stop," he commanded.

She immediately fell into silence. Only the distant ringing of tower bells kept the lot of them from the psychological fear induced by true quiet. After all, there is no silence without death.

"Girl. Put your robe back on. Tell me why you are trying to negotiate your worth to me. Do not omit or cover a single detail in your answer." Izuku spoke with resolute authority.

She obeyed immediately. "I have… family left behind. If I don't fetch a good price, I fear that they will be eaten or sold. I have a good set of masters… or… I did. I just fear that they… that my masters will be forced to sell or eat another if they don't get enough money from selling me!" she cried out. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she spoke, the barest hint of a flood waiting behind her eyes.

Izuku wanted to bend down and hold her, to pick her up and ensure that her bare feet would never touch hot cobblestones or gravel ever again. He wanted to buy her entire family and ship them far away to a place where they could be free and happy… but he did none of those things… not yet, he told himself. "I told you to leave out no detail. Tell me the rest."

She sniffled, clearly fearing her own words. "If you pay my overseer extra… none of that will go to my masters. They might still have to sell or eat someone… so… I…"

"Stop. You have done well to show loyalty to your masters." Izuku hated the words even as he said them. This act was draining on him. "Attendant." He called out to the grasshopper standing nearby. "If you were to buy her on the open market, what would you offer?"

The insectile demon pondered briefly. "She could easily fetch a price of five full crowns, my Prince."

Izuku hid his astonishment. He had seen tools, albeit magical ones, with significantly higher price tags on the market. An enchanted knife that he passingly admired on the way here was listed with a price of twelve full crowns and two duchies. Apparently, it had the power to preserve the meat it cut, whatever that meant. How little was human life worth if a knife sold for more than a small child?

"And the price to have her delivered to your home?" Izuku asked.

The grasshopper thought about it. "I'd offer two duchies at the most, and even then, only if I was too busy to handle the trek myself."

Izuku knelt onto the gravel to put himself at eye level with the girl. "She shows potential though… bravely seeking each of her master's best interest even when she will never see them again. Draw up a receipt. I'll pay ten crowns for her… and two crowns plus two duchies for her delivery. The price is to her owners, and the fee is to her handler. I trust that is agreeable." He did not phrase it as a question. He also didn't admit that he derived the price from that knife from earlier, disgusted that anyone could pay less for a human being than a simple piece of cutlery.

Her eyes, downcast as they were, widened with astonishment when he called her brave. Izuku wondered if she had ever been complimented like that before in her life. One more thing he would have to change.

The hulking lizard bowed his head lower than before. "My Prince is most generous. Your bounty is as vast as the Endless Desert."

The attendant stepped forward, draft-printing a prayer strip from within his mouth. "I trust this is to your approval, my Prince?"

Prince Izuku took the offered strip of paper and read it. It was spiritually binding to the exact terms he had just dictated. Offering it to the kneeling lizard, he did his best to still sound dismissive of this whole affair. "Consent to the transaction and my attendant will pay you from my coffers."

The strip of paper burned up once the demon held the other end, and a new one was formed from the ashes in its place. The child uttered a terrible scream as green fire erupted from her brand, burning a hole through her robe as well as the small cloth wrap about her waist. To Izuku's horror, the name of her previous masters was replaced with his own… and the process was traumatically painful for her. Abandoning all pretense, he moved to pick the child up, rescuing her from a fall onto the gravel below. Cradling her in his arms, he smothers the fire on her hip before pulling her robed tighter around her.

No one was more startled by his actions than the girl herself.

The transaction was done, and she was his now. Without a word, Izuku cut the chain that bound her to the lizard before turning his back on the creature. He strode towards his palace, carrying the child in his arms.

After they had crossed a fair distance, he spoke more freely than he had before. "Bear through it… we'll get you an ointment for the burning. Then your new life can begin…"

Her eyes were wet with unrestrained tears. "My new life? As… your…"

"As the newest member of my family," Izuku whispered to her, interrupting her before she could call herself his slave.

A tiny fist balled up on his shirt, gripping him tightly at the word family. "I wouldn't dare wish for such a thing… master," she said, likely testing if it was indeed safe enough to let her emotional guard down.

"Did you hope, though?" Izuku asked.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry master, but I don't understand."

It was a simple enough question, he thought. He looked down into her face as she once again averted her eyed from his. She was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of being carried like this. "Is being treated well something that you hoped for?"

Her lips pressed hard together. "I… don't know that word, master."

Izuku was caught by surprise. "Hope? You don't know the word hope?"

She nodded. His astonishment dissipated into angry resolve. Slaves here weren't even taught the meaning of hope. The only way open to them for a better future was to wish and sacrifice to higher powers, who doled out small favors in exchange for human lives, who bought and sold children for less than the price of a kitchen knife.

"I'll teach you about hope… and a lot of other things you'll need to learn. Hope is that feeling in your chest when you wish for a better future, for things to turn out well." Izuku said.

"Is that what that was?" she whispered. "When I reached out to you… and you saw me… that feeling… is that why you…"

"Why I saved you? Yes, I suppose it is." Izuku admitted. He thought for a bit. "Are you comfortable being called Third Daughter?"

She shrugged. "It's what my mother named me. But my masters usually called me other names…" she still couldn't look him in the eye.

He smiled at her. "How about Nozomi?"

She blinked in confusion. "I… what's that?"

Izuku felt happy for the first time since arriving here in the Demon City. His joy earlier while under the influence of the Ebon Dragon did not compare to this feeling. That selfish aggrandizement of his ego was such an insignificant thing compared to the wonder on this child's face. "It's a name that means 'hope' in my native language."

"You… in the world you come from?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes. I come from a big island; a land surrounded by blue waters. The waters don't burn when you touch them, and the sky is blue… the sun is yellow and warm, not as hot and unforgiving as the sun here. It's a land filled with trees and mountains. The buildings there are tall, but they're built by humans for other humans… it's a land where humankind lives freely with each other."

"I…" she interrupted him, her childish enrapture interrupting all the training she must have endured. "I'd like to see that… please… I…" she obviously didn't know what to say or think, but Izuku was glad to distract her from the pain she must be feeling. "I… like that name…" Nozomi finally mumbled.

"Then from now on, that's what I'll call you, Nozomi. And don't worry… I have every intention of showing you my homeworld." Izuku said, wanting her to have something to look forward to.

"I… thank you, master," Nozomi said. "Thank you for giving me… hope." She dared to look up into his face.

Izuku sighed at being called master but still smiled at her. He'd correct her for calling him master another time when there weren't demons around every corner. She finally looked him in the eye and named that emotion that stirred in her heart. It wasn't much, but it was progress. This was probably the closest she had to a normal human life than ever before.

Now all Izuku had to do was save the Earth and make sure none of the children there faced a childhood like Nozomi's was. A lesser man might have buckled under that pressure, but Izuku was armed with more hope than sense. "No. Thank you, Nozomi, for giving me back my humanity."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has probably been the fastest I wrote out a chapter and published it. Can you blame me though? I've been looking forward to this chapter for months.
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to read me strange crossover fiction and my long-winded writing style. Your likes and comments mean a lot to me and encourage me to finish this project for not just my own sake but for all of you as well. I feel so lucky to be able to share this story with all of you, to draw up all the love and hurt in my life and translate it into the words on these pages. From the comments and discussions this has started, it really feels like a lot of you are able to look past these pages and into the part of me that is so hard to express any other way than storytelling.
> 
> At 668 followers, 517 favorites, 229 reviews, and over 107,733 views on FF dot net, as well as 167 kudos, 49 bookmarks, and 5513 hits on AO3, you all have blown me away. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> Once again, I am going back to older chapters and going over their grammar and flow to improve the quality of my work. I did another edit run on chapters one and two and will hit chapter three before I work on typing chapter twenty-two. As I normally do, I will reply to every single comment. I reply directly to comments on AO3 and wait three days after publishing to reply in the review section directly on FF dot net.
> 
> I've decided to start up a Discord server by or before I publish chapter twenty-two in case anyone wants to just stop in and say hi to an amateur author like me. I can't be on all the time, what with work, etc., but I can talk a bit about other directions my writing is going and would appreciate people's feedback as I continue on toward my goal of getting an original work published.
> 
> I look forward to all your feedback and look forward to sharing the next chapter when it's ready! Onward to Chapter Twenty-Two: The Second Heresy: Hourglass Accelerating Impatience!


	22. Cracked Shell Circumvention

Giant brass bells rang through the courtyard, each on a high ivory tower, announcing the arrival of the Shining Prince. Izuku tried not to ponder what kind of creature the demons had to kill in order to secure that much ivory… or whether it was one of Izuku's past lives that had slain the gargantuan beasts.

The palace gates yawned open for Prince Izuku as guards of various species knelt, bowing their heads and averting their eyes from him. Nozomi shivered in his arms from fear, and he did not want to consider how much of it was derived from his status as a Prince.

The gates were forged from a near-black metal with a dull green sheen. Izuku immediately recognized the near-obsidian appearance as a warped version of Soulsteel. With how rare and dangerous that metal was, there couldn't possibly be a way for the entire gate to be made from it. It had to be a thin layer coating something far less rare, lending the gate strength and power against possible invasions. Even as he crossed the threshold Izuku could feel the gates hunger as it grasped for whatever residual essence it could from Izuku. He surmised that the guards remained a fair distance from the gate itself for their own safety.

Izuku couldn't help but smirk at the idea that his palace had defenses that would put most fortresses to shame. That thought, however sweet, turned into ashes in his mouth. This gilded cage wasn't his property. It was just another thing lent to him by the Yozis, another hook to control him with.

Izuku had learned from the Dragon what to do with hooks and cages, though. Reminding himself that each action he took now was for his ultimate freedom, he fed that selfish drive to the power he had gleaned, fueling it into action. Aligning his essence to the dark patterns he learned from the Father of Lies, Izuku whispered a lie to his own heart. "The Yozis can hold me against my will."

Silently walking through the gardens that flanked him, Izuku felt the subtle power take hold as he moved with premeditated grace, flooding his movements and mannerisms with deceit and cunning. He smiled at little Nozomi in one moment and then at a groveling demon the next, secretly testing just how subtle and thorough the magic of his self-enchantment was. He quickly learned its limitation: if an action would erode the Yozis hold on him, then his essence would aid him from within. Otherwise, the dark pool of power would slumber, waiting for another lie to tell, another cage to slip.

Izuku's palace was impressively large. Thankfully, it was tastefully lacking in gold. Far too often, palaces throughout human history were lavished with so much gilded finery they became uncomfortable to look at or to live in. Here, status was displayed with craftmanship and opulent architecture more so than in gaudy displays of expense. Ceilings arched high above Izuku and Nozomi with ornately painted depictions of past glories. An unfortunate number of these paintings were now completely obscured by thick dark muck… an acid wash meant to destroy the pigments underneath. It was a shame, thought Izuku, that he wouldn't be able to learn from those discarded histories.

Just inside the great gate was a massive entry chamber, a gathering hall for guests and petitioners. The sight that greeted the Shining Prince, though, was not welcoming. Nozomi recoiled in his arms, hiding her face. He could feel the muscles cording around her spine as fear contorted her in his embrace.

A crowd of demons, each stranger to look at than the last, were working tirelessly here, each aided by a handful of human slaves. Scaffolding was everywhere. Paintings were being washed away, and artists were gathered to fill in the new blank spaces. Scattered across the floor were fragments of destroyed statues.

One statue, formed of nigh-unbreakable Malfean Brass, stood defiant against the destruction. It was marred and cracked, yet it refused to admit that it was doomed. The decapitated head stared forward with unmistakable pride and self-assuredness. The face, though damaged, remained strong and beautiful in the way only men with a vision of the future can be. Rubies threaded into a curtain of gossamer-stringed hair lay scattered about the floor, pooling like blood after a murder. Giant emeralds lay dark in the construct's eyes, no longer lit by the fire that the hollow head once guarded.

Izuku instinctively knew the face of the Crimson Prince, though he could not remember the Prince's name. Somehow this all seemed familiar to him in a way that passing memories of history could not explain.

As the statue's feet was an inscription of poured brass to render stone immune to time's ravaging touch. "Behold oh Exalt! Mark me Great Deva! On this Foundation do I Establish the All Thing!" it declared, yet the remainder of the inscription had already been destroyed. Hot pickaxes lay scattered on the floor nearby, next to the kneeling demon-workers that paused long enough to pay respect to the new Prince.

The irony was not lost on Izuku. They were destroying the image of the prior incarnation even as they groveled at Izuku's feet. His upper lip curled upward into a snarl at the thought.

Izuku's heart shuddered in his chest. The Prince wasn't sure what it was that made him feel so uneasy about making eye contact with this statue. Even though he understood that this was his predecessor, the Prince who bore this Exaltation before Izuku's ascendance, he had no ability to recall memories from that life beyond vague notions and basic facts.

There was a barrier somewhere in Izuku's mind, a great wall rising between the facets of his soul. Closing his eyes briefly, Izuku tried to focus on that barrier. Cold brass as high as his thoughts could go greeted him. He smelled blood and ash in the air. Izuku was caught off guard as he heard the echoes of distant screams. He knew instinctively that these were nothing more than residual traces of battles long since ended, losses buried and mourned before Izuku was even born.

Yet the memories were locked away beyond Izuku's reach. He couldn't shake off the idea that the lock had been placed intentionally. Who was it that placed the barrier there, though?

No matter. There were far more pressing concerns. Izuku focused hard on one of the demons kneeling near the ruined statue even as Nozomi curled further into herself. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

If the demons could grovel any lower, Izuku would have been almost impressed.

The demon that rose its head to address Prince Izuku had two more that remained bowed low, each on elongated necks. "It is customary to remove the statue of the previous Prince when a new Exalt rises to take their place at the All Thing," a demon explains.

Izuku sneered in disgust. "Is it customary to destroy the statue as part of removal? Will mine one day be so disrespected?"

Another head rose to join the first, both regarding the other nervously while the third squinted its beady eyes and oriented itself down towards the floor. "The Heretic Prince is… a unique case, oh Shining Prince. He committed grievous sins against our Creators. To speak his name aloud draws their wrath, such were his crimes. All records of his existence are to be stricken away as forbidden texts, and his likeness to be destroyed in all locations across the Eternal City, including any currency."

Izuku's sneer eroded like sand in a stream. This was valuable information. On some level, he knew he should know the name of the previous bearer. The fact that he didn't clearly was intentional. He knew there had to be more, though. "And the deva who served him… what will happen to them… to you?"

"Those who do not swear and reaffirm their loyalty to the Reclamation are… to be executed." The second head spoke up, its voice shaking.

To be. So, the deed is not yet done, Izuku thought.

"How many are left that have… resisted their rightful allegiance?" the Prince asked.

"Less than a human handful, oh great Prince. The Heretic had six familiars." The demon spoke again, licking its lips before continuing. Sweat beaded on three foreheads. "Of those, only three have remained loyal to the Creators. The others… well… they have proven resistant to either interrogation or to… their true purpose as devas of the Primordial Host."

Izuku could sense the demon's reluctance to spill out any more useful information. He instinctively tugged on the demon's mind with strands of Essence, demanding compliance and obedience. "Where are these traitors kept?" his voice reverberated thickly with malicious power.

"They await you below the All Thing." All three heads pressed to the floor.

They await you. Izuku knew immediately what that meant. He was expected to execute the traitors as a sign of his own loyalty.

He chose to show no emotional reaction to this revelation. No. The waters on the surface did not ripple, but the currents underneath roiled with terrible violence. Still, Izuku wondered, why did he feel an emotional connection to these creatures when he had never met them? Even prying into his past lives, he could not recall them. They weren't human, he reminded himself. So, why did he care?

Nozomi shivered in his arms. There was no time for this. She was silently enduring her pain while Izuku sated his own curiosity. The Prince grit his teeth, annoyed with himself for getting distracted like this.

"I will need a private room. Now." He demanded.

"Right this way, my Prince." Another attendant approached, interrupting the exchange. This one looked vaguely like another variety of locust… or was it the same grasshopper as earlier? Regardless, Izuku followed the creature out of the large room and into a nearby hallway. He did his best not to look at any of the human slaves on his way out.

Izuku walked through a large selection of rooms towards his private chambers. Once it was just them and the smaller attendant, Nozomi stirred, relaxing her muscles and finally seeming almost at ease.

Almost. "We're in the Crimson Prince's palace…" she whispered. Izuku could hear undertones of primal fear in her voice. "It's dangerous… he's…

Izuku could see that she was caught in her own mental trap. She wanted to warn him of some danger, but also could not break her training and speak ill of a Prince of Malfeas. "He is gone. The danger is over. Relax now."

Demons probably knew when a Prince died. Human chattel did not warrant an update of such news, it seemed. Still, Izuku had to wonder what kind of monster he had replaced.

The aroma of honey and incense wafted through the air as they walked deeper into the palace, passing more paintings and statues and various rooms for pleasure and entertainment. The smell was strong, and Izuku successfully guessed the source.

When they reached the Prince's private chambers, a selection of Neomah and other beautiful demons awaited him. Bared breasts were dusted with powdered honey. Their necks and nethers were each touched with the barest of aromatic oils to perfume his senses. Female flesh was adorned in nothing but jewelry or the barest of silks. Perfumed pillows and incense burners were scattered about the room, yet Izuku could see there was order to their placement, efficiently using the natural airflow to spread the scent far beyond the confines of this room. For such an unexpected arrival, the Prince was greeted with an impressively impromptu orgy.

Izuku paused. He dared not wander too close to the various pillow-beds, where the siren call of sexual release called him. He knew that if he got too close that the Neomah in the room would pluck his fantasies from the air and reweave their flesh to suit his fantasies. If he allowed himself, he could become lost in their… embrace. He tried to not think past the embrace, but it was hard.

Damnit, he bit down on his own teeth to silence his thoughts. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He had been distracted enough. Nozomi did not deserve to wait even a moment longer.

With a heaving sigh, he let go of the temptation within himself. It was too bad, he admitted, that he had other things that needed to be done. Damnit, he did it again, letting his thoughts bend toward their temptations. "I asked for a private chamber. I meant that for solitude, not sex."

Feminine faces gazed at him from around the room, their eyes lidded with temptation. Their lips pouted at his rejection. Wordlessly, they remained relaxed in the lap of their own comfort, confident that Izuku would cast aside whatever concerns were troubling him and join them in carnal excess.

Like a fly flitting dangerously close to a spider's web, Izuku allowed his eyes to wander over them again. Their bared breast, an array of lavender skin adorned with dark purple nipples, rose erect as he watched. The skin around their neck became flush with heated arousal as their breaths caused their breasts to rise and fall. The air was subtly damp with thick feminine arousal and perfume. It was fucking unfair.

He bit hard into his own check, unsatisfied until he tasted blood. He needed out of this situation, but he had to choose a way that was befitting a Prince of Malfeas. Retreat wasn't an option. "Leave. All of you." Izuku ordered them sternly.

"Oh!" several of them cooed their objections, though they did move to obey. Unlike the servile demons at the entryway and the guards at his gate, his harem did not scrape and bow. The sexual nature of their servitude gave them some leverage over their master, after all. They moved like a troupe of dancers, lithe and graceful, rising from their beds and stretching at just the right angles to accentuate their curves.

"Please… may we stay? We grow so lonely without you." One said, as though she and the others were long lost lovers of his. Her eyes were large pools of dark anticipation.

He sighed before offering them a charming smile. Several of them shivered at the sight of his fangs and the promise of what they could do. Was that a genuine reaction or was that kind of behavior trained? No matter. "For now, no. I have matters that must be resolved before I continue my journey to meet Ligier. When I return though… I promise we will all have time to attend to each other's needs… after my ascension is complete."

It took more willpower than he thought it would to stand there and let them all pass by. A parade of temptation flanked him on each side. Breasts, honeyed lips, and more honeyed lips were exposed as they approached him. Their hips swayed dramatically, drawing his eyes as though to follow a series of swinging pendulums. More than one smiled or smirked at him, cocking an eyebrow as they appraised his muscles. Some licked their lips. They sauntered past him with a bounce in their steps, that motion echoed by bosom and buttock alike. As though a dance they set a hypnotic rhythm that sent his heart racing. Even now he was in danger of recanting his order and sinking himself into the hilt of intemperance.

Instead, Prince Izuku stood resolute, ignoring parts of himself that cried out for relief, that lamented that after everything he had done and been through that he deserved this indulgence. "You there… wait one moment." He called to the last one just as she was about to pass.

Her breath smelled of spice and something not quite like mint. An array of diamonds about her neck and waist were her only articles of clothing. Her lavender skin was hairless, with eyebrows brushed on. Diamonds were worked into the paint, in addition to more pressed into her cheekbones, framing her eyes as though with stars. "How may I serve you, my Prince?" she giggled. Her teeth were like pearls fresh from an oyster.

Oyster. Damnit. He was doing it again. "Fetch me towels and ointment for the slave's brand." was all he said, though he wanted to say something completely different. A very rigid part of Izuku wanted him to do something radically different, something that didn't involve much talking.

"As you command." She inclined her head to him before walking away towards the door. Izuku allowed himself to turn his head and stare at her supple ass-cheeks as she wandered barefoot into the carpeted hallways. He caught the barest hint of another piece of jewelry hidden way between them.

Damnit! He needed to go after her… to call the others back…

No. No! The Primordials wanted distractions like this here for him. There was a reason for that, though his head was too cloudy to know that reason… just what was in this incense?

Only at that thought did he see that little Nozomi was fully relaxed in his arms, almost oblivious to her surroundings. At least the aroma was helping her ignore her pain. He moved to one of the pillow beds, still warm from the bodies that had just occupied it, and set the small child down. Part of him wondered if her previous masters had similar comforts to this, if she had ever seen pillows like these or smelled so much incense. Probably not.

The Neomah from just earlier returned with a shining silver tray in her hands. He turned to look at her and marveled that she had taken the time to abandon her jewelry somewhere, likely with a grasshopper shaped attendant. She was naked and breathtaking. Izuku failed to come up with a metaphor for her beauty. Everything was missing save for the decoration on her face… and possibly the one adornment that remained beyond his view.

She knelt next to him and the child, setting the tray next to Nozomi. Before Izuku thought to ask, she poured ointment onto one of the small towels, soaking it thoroughly, and handed it to him, a soothing towel press for the wound. Both of their hands were slicked from the oil where they touched.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, my Prince?" she asks.

Izuku turns to answer her, taking his eyes off little Nozomi. In the amount of time he had taken to apply the ointment to the mewling child, the demoness had transformed. She was a short brunette with rose tipped breasts. Her brown eyes were large and full of determined hope. Her face had rounded, moving from exotic angles of lavender skin to pink cheeks on a very human face. Izuku didn't recall meeting someone with this description. Who was this that she was imitating?

Why was he even more rigid for her now than he was when she was an alluring temptress? What was it about this naked yet wholesome woman-next-door look that stirred up so much lust in him?

Damnit.

The shapeshifter leaned forward towards him, her breast dangling well within his reach. Ice could not have made her tips more pronounced than they were at that moment. "I am here to serve you." She reached forward with her oil-slicked hand, tentatively reaching to touch him.

Izuku took the offered hand in his own. He smiled at her. "Order the following for me. Fruit. Vegetables. Honey and bread. Soap and a hot water basin. And a silk wrap for her."

Those large brown eyes grew larger as she pouted. "You are paying a great deal of attention to a slave girl, my Prince."

At last, something to help him break the spell. Her all-too-human face did not match her words. It was enough for him to shake off his need to pin her down and bury himself in… Damnit.

He used his hunger for her, moving towards her. She was especially alluring to his senses. Izuku was dangerously close. Her breasts pressed firmly into his chest. He hungrily inhaled the spice of her arousal.

Izuku whispered in the shapeshifter's ear, barely stopping himself from biting into her. "She is my experiment. Her days as a human child are numbered. Now, go get me what I asked for or you'll be forced to watch without touching yourself when I finally get acquainted with the others… and if you're very fast you'll be first while the others watch."

With a smile, the demoness rose slowly, brushing his face with her breasts as she ascended. Her stride was longer this time as she left, less hypnotic and significantly faster. Whether she was motivated by genuine lust or simply a better position within the harem, she hurried off to Izuku's task list. His eyes bore into the last piece of jewelry, the star where a rosebud should be.

Damnit, he was going to regret sending her away. Izuku breathed out his tensions as best he could and focused on the tasks at hand.

With privacy finally his, Izuku could freely attend to Nozomi's injury and commune with his other-self. Nozomi looked at him with a mixture of wonder and fear. "This is going to hurt awhile longer, but nothing will harm you."

The child's eyes grew larger as she looked up at him. He could see the strobing light of his own eyes reflected in hers as he applied the ointment to her brand. "Master, you're glowing," Nozomi whispered.

Izuku smiled warmly at her, glad to have a human connection with someone, glad to be able to help. "I'm having a conversation... with myself. Nothing for you to worry over."

{}

Ochako could barely contain how happy she is as Izuku carried her. He scaled up Mt. Takao with long powerful strides, tirelessly ascending. Brisk air whipped through her hair as she was swept away by adrenaline pumping her heart to the beat of his legs.

She was surrounded by natural beauty, but she still caught herself staring up at him. Under any other circumstance, she would be taking in the view, admiring how pristine the sea looked from this high up. She was still breathless and sweating from her confession down at the base.

He smirked at her when he caught her staring up at him. It wasn't fair. His jawline and burning eyes were captivating. That mouth, those fangs, muscles so powerful that he could tear her apart… why did that phrase excite her? She knew the answer. Izuku was dangerous, and the danger of just being near him stirred something deep within her, like a million butterflies in her stomach.

Just then, Ochako swore that one of his hands wandered down over her butt. She sharply inhaled when that hand gave her an appreciative squeeze. Instinctively her muscles clenched, but she arched her back just enough to push back into that hand.

Wait. He was still holding her by supporting her back and legs with his arms… she tried not to ponder the way his biceps looked while he held her up and thought over the fact that there definitely had been another hand on her… there it was again!

His smirk gave the game away. Now Ochako knew. He was cheating, using one of his powers to tease her… she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks when she understood the implications of what he could do with those powers under the right circumstances.

Two could play this game, she thought. Gripping onto him firmly with one arm behind his neck, Ochako allowed her other hand to roam. She traced her fingers across his collarbone, touching Izuku's skin ever so lightly. She lingered briefly on the chain around his neck before her hand wandered down across the silky-smooth material of his shirt. She traced orbiting circles around her target without ever touching it directly. Ochako couldn't help but smile mischievously when her demonic companion uttered a low rumbling growl like the warning of a feral tiger.

"I'm going to get you for that," Izuku promised with a smirk.

"I hope you do," Ochako answered him defiantly, daring to blurt out the first thought that entered her mind.

Their game served as an effective distraction, but they both knew it would not amount to much. Not yet. Ochako tried not to think about the swarm of demons that would come to Mt. Takao or how Izuku would have to protect her from them… until suddenly she was captured by that thought. The idea of a throng of demons wanting to get at her while Izuku stood resolutely in front of her, his strong back acting as a wall of refuge for her. Ochako was afraid… but folded into that fear was an excitement unlike anything she had ever felt in her life.

As fun as it was to tease out a potential relationship with him, Ochako marveled at the fact that he was her life raft in shark-infested waters. No. Not just her. Izuku was the only hope anyone had anymore. The pressure that he had to be under, the stress… she knew without question that if he needed anything from her, either to help him endure his own burden or to help lighten it from his shoulders, Ochako would do it. Immediately and without regret.

Arriving at the summit was just as emotional as crossing any finish line Ochako could think of. There was no cheering. No fanfare. No one congratulated them on a job well done. Yet to Ochako, this was a long-overdue reward.

Now the city would have a chance. The demons would come here, and the thought of that scared her out of her mind, but this was accompanied by a fire in her heart. It burned like the sore feeling in her feet after a hard day of work. The difficulty and ache of it reminded you that you had just completed something difficult, and in this case, that difficulty would save lives.

Ochako, falling from her continuous adrenaline high, was extremely grateful that there were multiple benches here for tourists to rest on as they took in the mountain's amazing views. At that moment they looked like wooden pallets she could lay down on. Once Izuku set her feet down, she was touched that he guided her to one. Did he anticipate her exhaustion? Was he always such a thoughtful person?

Suppressing a yawn that grew in her chest like a balloon, Ochako wished she had met Izuku earlier in his life. She wished she could have learned more about who he was before the demons changed him.

The wooden seat afforded her a great view, but she wasn't looking at the scenery. She watched Izuku get to work. He set the Chrysalis down, taking a peculiar amount of time to pick just the right spot for it. Maybe he was trying to prevent it from rolling anywhere. Maybe there was something spiritually significant, some energy she couldn't see, about the spot he chose. Either way, he gave her a cutting motion with his hand, letting her know that she could deactivate her Quirk.

Once Ochako shut off her powers, the Chrysalis groaned into place, settling deep into the soil and gravel of the tourist-station at the summit. She marveled that she had held up something so heavy for so long, proud that her stomach hadn't cramped up or grown nauseous. But now that her ephemeral muscle had relaxed, Ochako was glad that she was sitting down. It felt like her legs simply wouldn't move. Her eyes felt heavy.

No! She didn't want to miss this. She didn't want to lose any time with Izuku before he disappeared! Ochako stared at him hard, forcing her eyes to track him.

Even as he oriented his body to face the Chrysalis head-on, Izuku looked over his shoulder to her. His eyes were soft and warm, like a campfire for roasting marshmallows. Don't worry, those eyes said to her.

Izuku fixed his gaze back to the Chrysalis, and gripped the air in front of him, rendering the golden chain that anchored him visible. Arcs of fire and energy shot back and forth through that chain, causing Ochako's skin to tingle as shivers of electric excitement ran up and down her body.

"Izuku. Stop." Glowing from within, the copy of Izuku, the one Ochako knew and admired, reached forward, trying to initiate contact. The mechanical voice in Ochako's ear transcribed everything with literal faithfulness, unable to capture tone or inflection. Ochako though had one advantage over any hero possibly wanting to listen in. She could see Izuku's face and posture in person.

She could see the nervous hope that fluttered in his hollow body. "Are you there? Stop."

Tears welled in her eyes as they waited. Long moments passed.

"Yes. Stop" came the flickering reply. Ochako watched as Izuku heaved, inhaling deeply at the contact with his other-self. "I have finished the first stage of the rescue. Stop. We are alone. Stop. It is safe to begin the next stage of our plan. Stop."

Ochako's breath caught in her throat. This was it. This was what they had come here for, their secret purpose that the demons couldn't know about, mustn't know about. Their mission was on the verge of success. The excitement was too much. She couldn't contain it. Ochako needed to move and rose from where she sat. Before Izuku could even ask her for it she fumbled clumsily with her blouse, rushing to extract the memory-weight from where it rested against her skin.

"Hold on a moment. Stop. I'll link us to the memories we need and…" Izuku paused whatever it was he was going to say next, but Ochako was too busy fumbling with her own clothes to take note.

It felt like it took her forever to get past her own buttons and layers, but it was almost no time at all. She stepped forward with a sense of victory as she offered forward the trophy she had hidden away. It was only when she looked up to see Izuku's face that she realized what she had done. He had a quiet smirk on his lips and one eyebrow raised just a bit higher than the other. His head leaned to the side. She was confused for a moment until he gestured at her to come closer. There was something slowly seductive in his hand movements…

That was when Ochako realized that she had left her blouse hanging open, revealing her bra-clad torso. Her face and chest felt hot and uncomfortable, clammy with embarrassment. Ochako swallowed down those sensations and strode boldly up to Izuku, letting the weight of her cargo settle directly into his outstretched hand. She maintained eye contact the entire time, daring him to speak about her exposure or to let his eyes wander.

Instead, Izuku nodded appreciatively towards her with a genuine smile. "Thank you, Ochako. We wouldn't have made it this far without you. Thank you for…" he paused, trying to find the right words. He might have taken that pause to glance down across her body, but she couldn't prove it. "Thank you for sticking by my side when I asked you to leave. It meant… it means everything to me."

Don't cry, Ochako said to herself. She smiled until her mouth felt like it would stretch her face out, the kind of smile that lifts the skin on your cheekbones and eclipses the lower parts of your own vision. "I would do it all again, Izuku. This time I spent with you… it was terrible. Oh no! Not the parts I spent with you... the..." she gestured helplessly out to the wider world, the unnatural sky and the city below them. "But even with all of that... this was also a time I'll cherish the rest of my life."

"Izuku. Stop. You never finished what you were going to say. Stop. Is everything all right out there? Stop." The lights flickered from deep within the Chrysalis as two constant stars lit from within. Their green light gazed out assessing their counterpart.

Ochako was so shocked by the interruption that she instinctively grabbed up her open blouse, closing the world away from her partial state of undress. Buttons quickly followed. She saw Izuku give her an apologetic look. Later, those eyes told her. We'll have time to talk about all of this later.

But would they? Would there be time?

He turned away from her, meeting the fiery gaze from within the Chrysalis. "I apologize. Stop." He flickered the response back. "I had to retrieve our memories from Miss Uraraka. Stop."

If it was possible for Ochako to swell up with pride, she would have. Instead, her eyes filled to the brim with moisture, threatening to break the dam of her emotions. Fumbling with her buttons, she wished that she had more to do right now… even taking a video or picture as Miss Ashido had done earlier would make her feel productive. It was too bad her flip phone couldn't do that.

"Before we begin. Stop. I want you to double-check something for me. Stop." The Izuku in the Chrysalis asked.

"Of course. Stop." Her Izuku responded. Wait, did she think of one of them as hers…?

"I have rescued a child. Stop. She is eight years old. Stop. She was a slave. Stop. Now that I saved her, I want to give her a better life than she could have here. Stop. Is this desire one I would have had before the demons altered my mind? Stop." Izuku's question was recited by a monotone mechanical voice in her ear, yet the amount of emotion contained in those words almost made Ochako want to hug the Chrysalis and comfort him. She hoped that someday soon he would open up to her about everything he was going through in there.

She hoped they would all have that chance.

Ochako was caught off guard by the sight of a single blue light. It was faint, but it was there. One lone cyan star descended down Izuku's cheek as he smiled with more warmth than Ochako knew he had in him. Even after all the horrible things Izuku had been through, his light still shone through. "Yes. Stop. Adopting her is something I would think of doing too. Stop. So, do it. Stop. Bring her home. Stop. Let's give her all the encouragement we needed while growing up. Stop."

Ochako didn't know whether to jump up and down, laugh, cry, or run up to Izuku to congratulate him and hug him. Instead, she nervously shifted from one foot to the other before her nerves had her sit back down on the bench.

Adoption. Izuku had just transitioned from a dangerous powerhouse to a father in front of her eyes. He had just grown intimidating to her in ways she couldn't think of before. A relationship with him now meant a relationship with the family he was building. Ochako wasn't ready to ask herself if she wanted to be a mother… but then she realized that she was willing to do anything, if she believed herself, to make Izuku's life better.

Silently cheering for him and the life he was making for himself, Ochako decided that this sudden decision was proof that Izuku was the man she wanted in her life. To have a man this amazing, she would have to earn her place next to him.

No, not just him. She would have to work hard and secure her spot in his family. Ochako would have to be amazing too... but not just for Izuku. Sight unseen, Ochako knew this little girl would need as much help as possible to live a normal life. Izuku would need help guiding her, teaching her, nurturing her. Fist clenched, Ochako swore that Izuku could lean on her as much as she had leaned on him.

"What's her name? Stop." Izuku asked.

"I named her Nozomi. Stop." The other answered.

Ochako engraved this moment into her heart. She never wanted this memory to ever fade.

Izuku placed his hand atop the memory stone Ochako had protected. "Are you ready, Izuku? Stop." He asked his counterpart.

"Bring it, Izuku. Stop." The other called out.

Izuku uttered several words in a language she didn't understand as sand coalesced between his fingers, forming chains of gold before Ochako's eyes. That chain linked up to a lock that clamped onto the chain linking the two versions of Izuku together. Lightning seemingly wrapped around that point of contact and traveled up and down the chain. Soon Izuku's heart lit with white fire before her eyes before the lightning traveled down the chain to the other Izuku. Both hearts lit with the same white-hot energy.

Ochako could barely look anymore, fearing that she would go blind looking at them. She held her hand out in front of her, not knowing if she was blocking out the light or reaching for it. The truth was, Ochako was doing both.

Then, roaring like twin lions, Izuku changed everything.


	23. The Second Heresy: Hourglass Accelerating Impatience

Lightning shot through Izuku's mind and body. His heart felt like the molten core of an industrial furnace. Thrashing, his body flailed almost helplessly in the dark fluid of the Chrysalis. It felt weak… yet it felt. That alone was progress. Izuku knew that he was still in his palace, that Nozomi was resting next to him while he meditated… yet that was not the root of where he truly was, was it?

No. There was so much more. There were so many layers to Izuku's existence now.

His eyes were open, yet they were blind. He could feel his eyelids open and close around useless spheres of flesh. The chain connecting his other self was visible only through his third eye, the spiritual organ of his awakened chakra. It was a trail of light against a stark darkened world.

Izuku focused hard on that trail, following the light to wherever the path would lead. Silver sands coalesced around him as his vision expanded. Harsh green light flooded his eyes, which made no sense to him. The heat of the Endless Desert wrapped around him, tempering him like a blade in a forge. His knees burned where he knelt in those sands. Blood trickled down his face…

Breathing in the harsh dry air, Izuku relished any sensation at all. Desolate and unrelenting, the locked memory of the Endless Desert returned to him. Takeru, the Prince that Was, returned to him. He knew it wasn't the Prince's true name, just a label that was useful to avoid coy games with titles and pronouns.

Izuku fell back into that memory, allowing himself to feel those helpless and frantic emotions, the sharp edge of his knife as it sliced through bone and skin. Despite the satisfaction of filling in a gaping hole within himself, a memory that he implicitly knew he could trust, he allowed the fear and uncertainty of it all to flood his heart. His hands trembled with pain and confusion.

"You are doing well, Izuku." Takeru's voice rang out like a deep drum lodged in Izuku's skull. Takeru did not refer to Izuku with platitudes or Princely titles, not even mild flattery. Those were not preferred tools for the Prince that Was.

"It still fucking hurts," Izuku spat out blood-soaked spittle with his words, feeling the tiny river flow down the front of his face and soak his lips. His Heart Cutting Blade was lodged deep into his forehead. The world wobbled and shifted as though the blade was warping reality… but it was his brain it was cutting through, not the fabric of existence.

"Your brain lacks pain receptors, and the alignment of your essence ensures that your self-imposed damage remains superficial. Calibration, if you give the Yozis time for it… that will be much worse." The grim warning urged Izuku to continue.

"What… what is Calibration?" Izuku asked even as he gripped the handle firmly, pushing it down through his brow and between his eyes. Bone cracked, split, and mended under his skin, like an iceberg splitting before a plow-vessel and then reforming after it passed. Icebergs didn't bleed, though.

Images flooded Izuku's mind. Planets cracked before his vision as demons swarmed across their surface. Massive chunks of earthen-stone and metal were dragged across giant forge-fields. The material was melted and rebuilt… and added to the ever-growing walls of Malfeas. People were hunted and enslaved as he watched their cities burn. The lucky ones that hid weren't so fortunate when their worlds split and died around them, expelling them into the void or crushing them in lava and rock. How many billions had the demons already enslaved, devoured, or murdered for sport?

"Calibration… draws your world closer to Malfeas." Takeru began, his voice was soft yet cold. "It syncs your reality to be lock stepped in time to Malfeas, the last world that trails behind all others. Once complete, your world will be a five-day journey from Malfeas, and only five days ahead in time. You will no longer be floating on the flows of time that underpin the scattered worlds… but anchored to the past, to a past that will keep drawing you backward until it consumes you."

Izuku could barely comprehend what Takeru was saying. Malfeas was in the past? How far in the past? The young Prince knew better than to ask if this meant time travel was possible… they didn't have the luxury of philosophical meanderings.

Izuku focused on what was most important. "How do I stop it? How do I stop Calibration?"

Izuku could not see Takeru's face. He could, however, hear the smile in the deceased Prince's words. "The key to everything is your Chrysalis. Just as you need five days to complete your transformation, the sorcery that binds your world to Malfeas takes five days to complete. The Chrysalis allows both to occur… but these two systems are independent of each other. We can… or rather… You can knock them out of sync."

Izuku stopped cutting, taking a break just before reaching his upper lip. The top of his nose knit itself into shape while his nostrils filled with too much blood. He could barely breathe, choking on the iron-rich fluid. "How?" he rasped.

Visions of crystals dancing in the air entered Izuku's mind. Fires lit them from within as they whispered to him with a siren call of death. "The key to your Earth's salvation lies in accelerating your transformation. You must complete yourself as a Green Sun Prince before the sorcery that is Calibrating your world finishes its work. For that, you will need to confront the Whispering Flame. You cannot lie to her. We'll need to cut out your memories before you meet her."

Takeru continued even as he mentally prodded Izuku to keep cutting. "You already understand the multiverse thanks to Cecelyne. You have the impatience of Adorjan etched into your soul. You must reach deep within the Whispering Flame to gain her understanding of time. There are five keys you must obtain. They must be grasped in a specific order, or your mind will break into crystal facets." As he explained the nature of the five keys, five specific crystals lit up like tiny suns to Izuku's senses. Once he noted them, the vision abruptly ended.

Izuku had had enough of this bullshit. "Couldn't you have told me this before I jammed a dagger deep inside my brain? How the fuck am I supposed to remember all this?!"

Takeru's tone was serious. The spirit of the former Prince didn't take any pleasure in Izuku's discomfort. Instead, he ignored it as irrelevant. "You are Exalted. Nothing is Impossible. You need to remember this, but you also need to forget this. You must embrace that paradox deep within your soul and cast doubt from your heart. You need to encode these instructions into your instincts and discard them from your surface thoughts. Now, continue cutting while I explain. Imagine that you are cutting through sand or water if you must and try to focus on that image… but don't stop listening either. There's a reason I waited until you started cutting to explain all of this."

Gripping the knife, Izuku cut further, reaching down toward his chin. Heeding his predecessor's advice, he thought about water as he slid the knife through his lips. Miraculously, the wound healed in the knife's wake. Just like Takeru suggested, it was as though he was slicing through water, merely rippling it. The cut was much smoother, easier.

It still fucking hurt.

Takeru continued. "The Primordials will instruct you with pain, pleasure, and any tool they can think of to torment you and control you. They can offer you shortcuts to power, but they will never reveal the truth behind their lie. You already have the infinite potential of an Exalt burning in your chest. If you had more time on your hands you wouldn't need their methods to learn what true power is. Time, however, is in short supply. Humor them for now. We have objectives to fulfill."

Izuku gargled blood as he sliced the chakra within his neck, but the moment passed. He could understand the words better now, almost as if he had a second set of ears to listen. It felt like two minds were recording all of this as Takeru spoke.

"Your chakras are regenerating, doubling as they are supposed to. Good. Have you chosen one of your chains yet? You must imbue your anima with emotion and memory if it will serve. Creating an extension of your mind and will requires sacrifice." The former Prince somehow pulled off sounding both proud and dismissive.

Izuku paused, trembling with worry. "I… I can get it back, right? This isn't like Adorjan earlier… I can reattach the feelings and memories?"

The voice droned on past Izuku's anxieties. "Yes. You can even gain the memories your duplicate earned while you were apart… so while there is a risk, the rewards are great. Now, have you chosen?"

It sounded too good to be true, like a sales pitch with a hand covering the fine print. Izuku had succumbed to such a pitch before, now that he thought about it. Regardless, Izuku held up a chain that extended from his heart.

His idol, All Might, was inside. "It is all right. Why? Because… I am here!" the chain declared.

Izuku would miss that confident mantra. It was alright, though. He would get this back, or at least that's what he told himself. "I've chosen. This one."

It felt like a teacher was leaning over his shoulder during a lab assignment. Given Izuku's state, that assignment was probably a dissection. "Hmmm… not your most powerful set of emotions, but I can see why you chose this. Your duplicate would be more powerful if you imbued it with your familial love, but this is almost as good."

Izuku's heart raced with sudden worry. "Wait… if my copy meets my mother out there…"

A sensation not unlike sighing reverberated through the back of Izuku's mind. "He will hold an echo of every facet you have… he will still see her as his mother, and he will love her too."

Before Izuku could ask another question, Takeru pushed past his concerns. "Now, when you get closer to your heart chakra you will hold the chain out from your heart and slice it from your body, but this time it must be done by slicing your heart chakra in two. Angle the blade so that you only sliver off only that one chain. You don't want to remove too many, trust me on that."

If the echo of the deceased Prince could shudder, then that must be what Izuku was feeling deep in his gut.

"Before you cut though, listen carefully… and assign these words to the duplicate. Imagine that it is the man you're forgetting, this All Might, telling you these things. Then, when you cut the memory of his significance from you, these words will belong to your copy." the Prince that Was explained.

Izuku's voice was almost as silent as Adorjan's winds. "And then... I'll forget you?"

Warmth enveloped Izuku's shoulder, like a hand resting there to offer comfort. "Yes, but I will still be with you, though hidden beyond your perception. This is how things must be, Izuku."

Izuku wanted to nod, but it was painful to move his head and neck. A single tear welled up from this exchange. He knew that in the past all the pain and the trauma would have him bawling his eyes out. He didn't know whether to be proud that he wasn't like that anymore or not.

Takeru didn't let Izuku linger on those thoughts. "Now… the first key is, ironically, the key of truth. It is called Factual Determination Analysis. This is the lens by which the Whispering Flame understands everything… oh, and it means she can't be lied to. Once you have the key, the Charm that forms the basis of her spiritual code, no one will ever be able to lie to your face ever again. A nice side benefit, right?"

Izuku nodded, appreciating the power he'd obtain. It did sound useful…

A sensation not unlike a smirk entered Izuku's mind, as though he could feel it instead of seeing it. "Did I tell you to stop cutting? You're a long way from your heart chakra."

With a grimace, Izuku pushed the knife further, trailing through bone and blood as he angled toward the chakra in his chest. Blood trickled from Izuku's lips as he spoke. "You're just as sadistic a bastard as they are…"

The prior Prince exuded an aura of smug satisfaction. "I may hate the Yozis… but I still learned from them. Now, let's continue."

{}

Lighting roared through Izuku's chest as memories flooded his mind. Power surged up and down his spine, crackling as it leaped from his eyes. The palace of the All Thing fell away from his perception, stripped like paint from a wall. Hell no longer caged his vision.

The lies of the Yozis melted away as he stared them down.

Though he was encased in the Chrysalis, it no longer imprisoned his spirit. He finally saw it for what it truly was: a tool to transcend the limits of space and time. Takeru had shown him how to manipulate the Chrysalis before, but that was just a sample of what Izuku could do with such power. Projecting himself across multiple worlds was just the beginning, a tutorial of principles Izuku had not been prepared to comprehend.

Prince Izuku finally understood the massive possibilities arrayed at his fingertips. How had the Yozis been so arrogant and foolish? Surely, they understood how powerful the Chrysalis was. Did they truly believe that no Prince would ever use this power, that it would never be turned against them?

Izuku forced his third eye open, peering beyond the limits of Malfeas and Earth. Mount Takao stripped away to nothing, discarded to join his palace in Malfeas. Finally, he could see himself, the projection that he had sent out to defend his home. The twin souls, each bound by an umbilical chain to the other, finally met face to face.

Yet there was so much distance between them. Reality warped and bent around them as their minds fought to reinterpret their surroundings, tempering it into a shared vision they could cope with into existence. Each stood on an opposing cliff, clearly able to see the other yet unable to reach across. Flesh stared at the ephemeral, which returned the gaze of flesh, as though each Izuku was visually dissecting the other, determining which parts were original and which were wrought by the Yozis.

As their eyes met, Izuku saw something in his projected duplicate he did not expect. Pity.

His other self pitied him, his familiar face cast a gentle smile beneath sad warm eyes. Remorse. Empathy. Izuku understood on an intellectual level that he had cut away parts of himself to make this construct, parts that his other self had access to. Were those emotions so valuable, so vital, that his projection should feel sorry for him, the source of his copy and its life-force? Or was it that his copy felt sorry for the pain Izuku had endured since they separated? Perhaps a combination of both?

There wasn't enough time for Izuku to ask these questions. He'd get his answers later when the two re-joined. It was a bitter thought. Just like Adorjan had before him, Izuku had made a copy that was doomed to die… best to set that thought aside for now. Izuku could hate himself later.

Murderer…

Izuku shook that thought away.

Below them, stretched between the two great cliffs, sprawled the machinery of Calibration. A great twisting network of gears and threads, pulling and snarling like an overwound piano. At the heart of that machine, suspended precariously between the two landmasses, was the Chrysalis.

Izuku had finally accepted the truth that he was also a projection, simply more sophisticated than the one he had cobbled together. He had been so proud of that accomplishment, before cutting the memory away of course. He had assumed that he was projecting himself out to another world, stretching his mind across two planes of existence. That, however, was a lie built upon another.

The truth was that Izuku was projecting his holographic self into the world while the Yozis were stretching his soul into theirs. It wasn't Izuku that had the power to affect two planes. That power belonged to the tool that the Yozis had built. The Chrysalis. It was also this tool that would let Izuku alter the flow of events.

The lava-flow of time glowed with noxious green energy below them, backlighting the brass machinery of Calibration and the beating heart of the Chrysalis itself. The sky above them, grey and cracked, thrummed with distant thunderous noise. Barren cliffsides each were the endpoints of seemingly endless plains. They were infinite save of course for where the two great continents refused to meet. Calibration would see to that, forcing the two landmasses together.

Unless Izuku mucked up the works, of course.

"Welcome to the continuum of time and space… or at least a fractal portion of it." The voice of the Prince that Was emanated from within the Chrysalis, making itself heard in the back of Izuku's mind… no, in the back of each Izuku's mind. "Here, in the inner workings of Chrysalis, we must forge a new Charm into being."

Izuku gazed about, flitting his vision from gear to gear, thread to thread. "Am I looking at... time?"

"In a sense. This is how your mind chose to interpret time, or rather the time being manipulated by the Chrysalis. When I last advised you, guided you in making a Charm that was truly yours, you had to cut a part of yourself away and leave it in the present while the Yozis dragged the rest of you into the past. That has allowed you to anchor yourself into two points of time… allowing you to see it far more clearly." His voice betrayed how proud he was of Izuku's accomplishment, though he avoided words to that effect.

"It's like perceiving reality with two pairs of eyes instead of one." Both Izukus spoke their shared though together. They even uttered a similar chuckle about the incident afterward.

"We can see all of this because, like when you view the world with two eyes, you get additional depth. Our minds are linked yet we're seeing time from two different points of perspective… allowing us to see it more tangibly than ever before." The holographic version finished the thought out loud.

"Exactly," Takeru exclaimed. He was cut off from speaking as several great gears turned noisily, grinding out a mechanical scream as threads binding the two cliffsides were pulled even tighter. "As I was saying, we're going to use your advantageous position, straddling the past and the present. You will need to use both positions as footing while you reach forward and grasp a single mote of the future."

"The past…" Izuku uttered, even as the Eternal City emerged behind him. Great walls of basalt and brass, towers of ivory and conch, rose to contain him. "So Malfeas… is in the past?"

"Yes, Izuku." The former Prince responded. "Malfeas rests five days before Creation, which in turn rests many days before all other worlds. The disparate worlds of the Great Dream float and wander on a terrible sea of time, creative and destructive. The tide flows ever in one direction, yet the worlds bob and float chaotically, untethered at they are… all save two. Malfeas and Creation are forever locked in a terrible battle farther in the past than any other world. When all things come to an end… and they will end… Malfeas will be the last world to die, screaming and writhing as it watches the fate that awaits it. When the last stars snuff out from existence, Ligier will be the last light remaining until it too goes out. That is the doom of Malfeas, to sit agentless and helpless at the End of All Things."

Izuku shuddered, not at the vision Takeru painted… but at the relishing malice in the former Prince's voice. Even though the ending he spoke of would destroy everyone and everything, Takeru clearly enjoyed the notion that Malfeas and everything in it would be tortured by their delayed execution. He wondered just how much Takeru's thoughts of revenge had consumed this poor ghost, how much else had been cut away by his endless longing to make all Malfeas suffer and bleed.

"I digress." The echo of Izuku's predecessor composed himself. Without the use of hands or fingers, Takeru mentally prodded Izuku to examine the tensile connections of Calibration, to study how the inner-workings of the sorcerous construct bridged the two worlds, tesseract-ing time and space. "Behold the mechanism, the bridge that allows you to cheat the first and foremost Law of Cecelyne: that the journey from and to Malfeas shall not be circumvented nor may any shortcut be taken. The Chrysalis, however, acts as the one loophole to that law. Here, we make time our slave, using it to connect you across time to yourself. So far you have done this unconsciously, but now we must make far more active use of this opportunity…"

Izuku thought back to all the messages he and his copy had traded back and forth. Nothing crossed Cecelyne unless it took a minimum of five days to do so… the only reason journeys to Calibrated worlds could take less and less time was that each step of Calibration was but one day in a journey for that world to reach Malfeas. Cecelyne was, after all, fond of making loopholes to abuse. Izuku had broken that law time and again, but once again it had been done with a loophole. The Chrysalis truly was just that powerful.

"Now it is time for you both to reach for each other, to use the tension of Calibration. Even as it draws your world towards Malfeas, it draws you toward yourself. Anchored yet reaching, you must make use of the tensile time that stretches across your existence… and make the chain that links you into just the first link of a much longer tether, one you must throw forward past yourself…" Takeru explained.

"Into the future?" Izuku asked.

"Exactly," the older Prince answered. "Time has its own laws, just as each universe has its own rules, but you are Exalted. You are imbued with Primordial power to create worlds, to alter and create the rules as you need them to be. Use that. Reach forward in time and grasp a moment from unrecorded history… that will be the raw material needed for the Charm."

The twin Izukus gazed at each other, pondering just how to accomplish this task. The Izuku of flesh and demonic influence, the Prince in the Past, gathered up more and more chain-links from within his heart, allowing the line between himself and his projected twin to go slack. How would they grab a moment from the future? What do you even use to extract a moment in time from the fabric of…

Izuku, while caught up in these thoughts, manifested the Heart Cutting Blade in his hand.

"Yes," Takeru whispered, watching as Izuku puzzled out what to do next.

Did the blade cut just memories and flesh? Is that all it did? Or was there secretly more to it? No… there wasn't more to it… at least not yet. Izuku had to upgrade the power of the blade in his hand. He had to imbue it with crystalized power from the Whispering Flame. Izuku had to temper the edge in whispering fire. He had to remake it into a blade that could cut through existence and time.

As Izuku contemplated this, he could see fires light inside the Chrysalis, just like the ones inside the spheres of She Who Lives in Her Name. Similar fires emerged within his projected copy… and suddenly Izuku felt a burning furnace inside his chest, one that threatened to consume him.

Izuku plunged the dagger into his own heart, satisfied at the long hissing noise as though he had taken a heated blade and set it in freezing water. Yet here, the blade was cool, and his heart was hot. Here, he was quenching a fire with memory cutting ice.

Blood trickled from the back of his throat, across his tongue, and down his lips. Izuku did not want to think about the fact that his blood tasted so good, yet it did. Grinning, he pulled the tempered blade from his heart and looked at the crystalized dagger in his hand, ignoring the self-sealing hole in his chest. Longer than before, the blade became a short sword rather than a simple knife.

This would do nicely. Now all Izuku needed to do was to get this blade into the future… yet he was in the past. Izuku, however, was nothing if not determinedly ingenuitive. Grabbing up the slack in his heart-linking chain, Izuku forced the links taught, catching them under one foot before wrapping the remainder of the slack around his wrist, holding the length of chain vertically… as taught as any bowstring had a right to be.

"Yes!" the Prince that Was called out. "Now… anchor the blade… and launch it… go forward…"

Izuku did exactly as was required, not because of the older Prince's instruction, but out of a deeper knowledge, a necessity that drove him to act. Channeling as much essence as he could, channeling the shocking and creative skills of Cecelyne as possible, Izuku defied all common sense as he linked the hilt of his elongated dagger to his soul, hooked it into the taught chain, pulled that chain beyond the breaking point…

Izuku then launched his dagger forward with arrow-like precision. It flew rapidly across the chasm of time that separated him from his other self, trailing its chain behind it. Despite the weight and inaccuracy such a projectile must endure, it remained on course and shot forward straight towards the other Izuku…

Not to be outdone, Izuku's holographic twin slapped his palms together at precisely the correct moment, capturing the blade before it could penetrate his face. "That was close, asshole." He whispered but couldn't hide his eager grin.

Now it was up to him, the projection, the Izuku in the present. He was more than a mere copy. He could accomplish all of this and more, he told himself. Mirroring his source, his past self, Izuku turned took up the slack of the heart chain, rendering it taught between foot and wrist as his demonic twin had shown him.

Then, turning, he watched with fascination and horror as the land rent and tore itself apart, falling before his eyes into the magma flows of time. He stood flanked by two cliffs, alone on a rocky outcropping. The present, he reminded himself, was always under siege by both the past and the future.

Grimacing, Izuku hooked the dagger, knocking it like an arrow and poured valuable essence into this one shot. He aimed for the future, not knowing what he would hit. "Here goes nothing…" he breathed.

"No!" the Princely predecessor roared. Takeru was furious. "You must align your essence, you more so than your source. Though he tempered the blade, his task of getting the arrow to you was simple compared to what you must do next. Your heart and mind must be tempered not only with the skill and alacrity of Cecelyne, but the iron will of the Whispering Flame and the impatient tempest of Adorjan."

If Izuku could sweat, he would be soaked by now. What Takeru was asking seemed impossible. How was Izuku supposed to balance his internal alignment with so many facets? How was he supposed to reach forward into the future? He felt lost suddenly… so…

"Calm yourself. You are Exalted. You are endowed with the essence of the Primordials. They may lie to you, cheat you, and force your hand… but you still bear their power in ways they cannot. You can do this." Takeru said, encouraging Izuku even as he stood on the precipice between past and future.

"Now… close your eyes before you take aim. You're not aiming for a what but a when. Your eyes will not help you with that." the former Prince intoned.

Izuku followed his instructions, breathing rhythmically to calm himself.

It almost felt like unseen hands were guiding his frame, aligning his shoulders and his stance. "It is not possible, even for an Exalt, to reach back through time and change what has been set in the Shinma-structure of consequence. However, that doesn't mean you can't cheat in other ways. Reach forward and reel that moment back towards yourself. Pass it to your other-self… and as it passes between you… hold that moment in your mind. Warp it. Mold it. Expand it."

Izuku opened his eyes, not because he needed them to see, but because his lids could not contain the fire within. They burned him. He did not need to turn back. He knew without even looking that the other Izuku's eyes were on fire as well.

"I am Exalted." They recited the mantra together. "Nothing is Impossible."

Izuku released one long breath until his lungs, made of light and willpower, were empty. Inhaling once more, he breathed in silently, willing the air within him to be a silent wind. Focusing his eyes, he forced them to crystalize around truth and fire. Pulling the chain taught like a bowstring, he forced his essence to aim with skill at a target that was impossible to see.

Then, breathing outward, Izuku let go, shooting the crystalized dagger forward into the future.

As the blade thrust forward in time, anchored to the past by a chain threaded through the present, both versions of Izuku were assaulted by echoing noise. The dagger cut through layers of time, leaving ripples in its wake as it sped off further and further from Izuku.

The noises cascaded backward, sounds like screams of chaos and static… yet out of it all, there were discernable voices that could be picked apart from with the mass of sound.

"Little Prince, did you think that by saving your world from the Yozis that it would remain saved, even from yourself?" a voice neither Izuku had heard before uttered, smooth like silk, yet poisonous. It was dangerous in a way that only a woman's voice could be.

There was no time to ponder the meaning of those words. More assaulted Izuku's senses.

Like an explosion against a backdrop of lesser noise, the voice of Bakugou Katsuki rang true. "Deku, snap out of it, Deku! We need you! This isn't you, Deku! You need to regain control!"

Yet again, there was no time to pick apart or ponder those words. More kept coming.

The projection of Izuku choked when the next voice rang out, but the other did not know who the voice belonged to. "I have watched you grow into a fine man, Young Midoriya, and I could not be prouder."

"You are the Shining Prince! You are worthy to be my master! Command me and let us reign terror upon our enemies!" a bestial utterance roared louder than anything Izuku had ever heard.

"This is your workshop?!" an eager voice of bubbling excitement yelled out. "There are tools here I've never seen before! Your forge! Oh my god, you have an actual manually operated forge! Did you build this yourself?! Oh! Please reconsider! I want to work here! I want to help you! Let's make babies together!"

"Anything and everything, do whatever you want to me. I accept you, Izuku, all of you." Once again, a voice caused emotions to stir in the heart of Izuku's projection, leaving the other Izuku baffled. Who was this?

"Papa! Papa, you're home! I missed you so much! Oh! Oh! Look what I made for you!" Even though he was anchored to the past of Malfeas, the voice from the future overwhelmed him. Izuku felt his heart grow so large that it threatened to burst inside of his chest. The voice was wonderfully familiar, yet it was wonderfully different. Nozomi's voice was filled with happiness… and she was speaking Japanese.

A woman's voice that neither Izuku recognized interrupted their thoughts. "Why did I have to fall in love with such a selfish asshole? Such a fucking… attractive… powerful… seductive asshole." Izuku admitted that he very much wanted to know who that voice belonged to.

More unknown voices flood backward in time, too many to make out clearly. A shining note of desperation and pain rang out louder than the rest. "Did you forget me, Izuku? Did you really forget everything that happened between us, just like that?" The amount of pain in just those words was enough to break any heart.

The noise died down. The chaos rippled down from a roar to a murmur. Whispering from a dark future, one last voice could be heard. "Come, Prince Izuku, it is time to return home to the All Thing."

That last was said in Izuku's own voice. What did that mean? Were these voices from events that would happen… or that merely could?

At last, the dagger stopped its forward motion, lodged into something far from their field of view. Somewhere, far in the future, the crystal dagger had anchored itself into an unseen world neither Izuku could yet predict…

On that future horizon, the Izuku that stood on the outcrop of the present saw something that made his core turn cold. Six gigantic wings of emerald fire unfurled from a molten body at their center. The hulking figure rose, staring backward in time, locking Izuku in its vision. The demonic presence was unmistakable, crowned with horns and a burning emerald halo. Distance made it difficult to determine the figure's identity, yet it seemed strangely familiar.

"Unmake this! Undo this! Destroy this future!" the demon roared out, calling back to Izuku from across the chasm. It cried out with an edge of desperation. Its voice was thunder and gongs ringing in the wind.

The demon from the future grabbed up the dagger and threw it back. The chain rattled, screaming as it ripped backward through time towards its point of origin. The moment it had cut was still lodged onto the knife, shining like a shooting start hurtling through the magma fields of time. Once the creature finished launching the projectile it vanished from their view, obscured by the misty uncertainty of all possible futures

Izuku gaped. What future was it that called out to him? How could a throw do that? How could this thing hurl the knife with more force than a chain-strung bow could muster to launch it with? More importantly, how were they going to stop it?

"Stop thinking like a human being!" Takeru shouted, his voice reverberating in Izuku's skull. "Use the powers of the Whispering Flame! Both of you! Go!"

Izuku reached forward with his mind, grasping for the dagger even as it sped toward him. His mind struggled to catch it several times until finally, the two versions of Izuku clasped onto it together. Once caught, the two kept it tethered between them, floating in the field between past and present, hovering near the Chrysalis.

Holding the captured moment within the infernal grasp of his soul, Izuku strained to keep it in place. Takeru's voice intruded on his thoughts. "Now… you need to use that as a lens, to dilate and warp time as needed… use the fact that you stand on the bridge between two realities. Use the fact that you stand on two different moments of time. Time is relative. You are Exalted and enduring. Stretch that moment between both of you… And of course," the voice paused.

"Of course," Izuku nodded before yanking the chain that held his knife firmly, dislodging it from the time-fragment he and his counterpart had caught between them. With his newly honed dagger at the ready, Izuku could cut away this memory the moment this process was done.

Following their predecessor's instruction, the twin souls of Izuku used the fires of the Whispering Flame as they tempered the time-fragment into shape, destroying it as a thing that could be for the sake of a present need.

{}

Ochako had no idea what emotion to feel or what to even think. Izuku had roared triumphantly as lighting arced through the chain in his heart. She could see it through his holographic skin, a bright white star of fire against a backdrop of green, highlighting muscle and bone around itself as it pumped motes of light throughout Izuku's ephemeral body. Power arced back and forth along the chain leading into the Chrysalis…

This had been going on for agonizing minutes on end. Had it been ten minutes? Thirty? She wasn't certain. Throughout this time Izuku appeared to be in a state of meditation, or at least that was her best guess. Ochako had never seen anyone meditate while lighting roared through their body, yet Izuku appeared peaceful. His arms were splayed wide as if to embrace the entire world. His eyes, while open, were looking at a vista she couldn't see.

More fascinating though was that she was seeing, and thus listening in on, one part of a larger conversation. "It's like perceiving reality with two pairs of eyes instead of one. Stop." The words flickered into existence, repeated in monotone by her earpiece.

"We can see all of this because, like when you view the world with two eyes, you get additional depth. Stop. Our minds are linked yet we're seeing time from two different points of perspective… allowing us to see it more tangibly than ever before. Stop." The lights within Izuku danced around his heart. Ochako did not see the Izuku within the Chrysalis reply.

Her mind boggled at this new information. Izuku could see time? What did that even mean?

Then he said nothing for what felt like forever until she heard the translator say something she didn't expect. "That was close, asshole. Stop."

Ochako couldn't help but smile, resolving to ask about that later.

Shortly after Izuku gave himself a little self-encouragement. "Here goes nothing. Stop." Ochako wanted to ask what was going on. She couldn't be expected to understand all of this! How was she supposed to understand what he was doing with so little context?

It didn't matter what he was attempting in that world. It didn't matter that she couldn't see any of it. Ochako walked closer to him, squinting her eyes from his brilliant light. "I believe in you, Izuku," she said, wondering if he could hear her.

She was startled when the fingers on the hand closest to her splayed open. Daring herself to be brave, she reached out to touch him, not knowing if the power coursing through his body would hurt her. To her relief, all she felt was warmth as his fingers closed around hers. Izuku's expression softened, calmed. Anxiety and uncertainty melted away before her eyes.

"I am Exalted. Stop. Nothing is Impossible. Stop." He smiled ever so slightly as the words resonated in her ear. Ochako had never felt such confused hope in her life, yet now the emotion welled up from her chest to her eyes. She blinked the tears away, wishing they'd stop obscuring how beautiful his face was. Not just attractive. Beautiful, the kind of beauty you'd use to describe a sunrise or a vista of nature. His eyes smoldered with calm composure and hope, and she wanted to capture some of that for herself.

Tiny fires lit within Izuku. Ochako could hear whispers from them, murmuring from under his light-forged skin. More lit within the Chrysalis. She couldn't make sense of what the fires were uttering, yet the tiny voices were beautiful. They burned with the myriad colors of ten thousand opals.

His fingers squeezed hers tightly, reassuringly. Ochako jerked her head up and almost cried when he turned his eyes and smiled at her, his face cracking into a confident grin.

"Did you miss me?" he asked her.

Ochako squeezed his hand back. "You know I did."

Her eyes were caught as the opal fires within the Chrysalis danced and expanded, each moving frenetically as they orbited the center… the white-hot star that was Izuku's heart. The opal hued energy continued to dance outward, enveloping and surround the Chrysalis, forming a bubble of iridescent colors around the alien shell.

"What… what are you doing, Izuku? What is all this?" she asked, curiosity and fascination taking hold of her.

"Izuku is speeding up time inside the barrier," Izuku answered, a proud smile on his face.

Her neck could make her pay later for how quickly she turned her head, forcing herself to look away from the Chrysalis and back to Izuku. "You can do that?! That's… that's amazing!"

Izuku just chuckled, amused at how impressed she was. Jerk, she thought.

Returning her gaze to the Chrysalis and the dancing opal fires, Ochako was caught by how radiantly exquisite they were. Like a moth to a flame, she wanted to reach out… she desperately wanted to…

"No!" Izuku caught her other hand and directed her away from the barrier. "You can't touch that!" Fear resonated in his voice. It was the same fear she had seen him display before rescuing her from that blood ape.

Her pulse quickened, wondering just what mistake she had made. "I'm sorry!"

Izuku clicked his tongue at her chidingly. "You almost lost a finger, Ochako. Time is accelerating faster in there than it is out here! Think about what that could do if you accidentally had part of yourself on one side of the barrier."

Ochako tried to ponder that, but physics was a subject that she had to work hard just to get decent grades. It didn't come naturally to her. "Um… my finger could age really fast?"

Izuku shook his head. "Much worse. You'd have a traffic jam of blood and it could make your finger blister up before it fell off, dead. If the time difference was too extreme, it would practically saw your limbs off."

Hundreds of questions roared in the back of Ochako's mind. Out of all of them, she settled on just one. "So… how does this help us?"

His fangs didn't seem so feral or so threatening as his smile grew larger. With his face so eager, they looked cute. "It takes five days for the sorcery that draws our world closer to Malfeas to work. It's not coincidental that it takes five days for a Prince to emerge from their Chrysalis. That's the way this has always played out, world after world, locking whole planets to an inevitable fate. That's the way things will play out here… unless of course, the Prince emerges early, interrupting Calibration and scrapping the whole process."

Ochako's heart fluttered in her chest, hitching onto his words. Hope. Anxiety. Fear. How much time would she have with him before… before the other Izuku absorbed him? "How early, Izuku?" she tried to keep her voice calm.

His eager smile never wavered. "Soon, Ochako. Not yet, but soon. Izuku still has some damage to do in there before he gets out."

Ochako wanted to ask what he meant by damage. Movement to her periphery caught her attention. Her eyes darted back to focus on the Chrysalis. Light from within highlighted a skeletal frame, however briefly. Ochako gasped. Was Izuku building himself from scratch? Gang Orca had said that he had completely dissolved… but now…

A flash of light issued outward as a shimmering star floated to the surface of the Chrysalis. The light coalesced into the familiar shape of a memory weight before it passed through the time-bubble. Izuku reached for it, his hand passing harmlessly through the bubble. After he pulled it through it rested, completely inert into Izuku's outstretched hand.

She watched as Izuku picked up the chain that still linked him back to the Chrysalis, grasping for the memory that he had hooked onto it earlier. He braced himself and then, manifesting a much longer dagger than she had seen him use before, cut it away from the chain. The two jade weights were small, yet solid. Izuku held them together after his dagger vanished into sand and air. Ochako watched as light traveled between the two stones before they eventually merged into a single weight.

He passed it to her with the same casual motion she'd use to offer the uneaten half of a sandwich. "Hey. Would you mind holding onto this for me?" he asked.

Ochako couldn't help but play this moment up. "You're just hoping I flash you again while I stash this away." She smirked up at him as she took the jade-carved stone from his hand, letting her fingers trace along his wrist.

Izuku returned her confidence. His mouth seemed hungry to her eyes as he smirked. The fangs weren't cute anymore. Now they were… something else. "Guilty as charged," he admitted.

Ochako maintained eye contact as she opened her blouse again. She might have arched her back to attract his eyes further. Maybe. She might have also placed the jade carving in the pocket she'd sewn to the inside of her blouse far slower than was practical, but no one could prove that. Her efforts were rewarded by a brief downward glance. He made no efforts to hide his appraisal of her body, however short the moment was. One of Izuku's eyebrows raised in appreciation. For Ochako, that meant a lot.

Emerald fire arced upward from somewhere deep inside the Chrysalis, screaming in a torrential explosion as it roared up into the sky above them. There was no warning for this sudden calamity, this advent of light and fire. Ochako instinctively lunged forward into Izuku's arms, leaning into him for protection. She squeezed her eyes shut as her body shook with fear.

Warm arms wrapped tightly around her, enveloping her in walls of protective muscle and light. His strength made her feel safer immediately, but not as safe as his words made her feel.

"I have you," was all he needed to say. At just those simple words, Ochako knew that she was safe. "I have you," he said again before placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Ochako looked up into Izuku's eyes and was grateful. He was like a hearth fire against a winter storm. Here in his arms, she was warm and safe. Protected. One by one, she allowed her taut muscles to relax as she melted against him, uncaring that her blouse was open. She just needed to feel him, to feel a pillar of sanity against this insane world.

The fires dancing around the Chrysalis sped up their dance, orbiting faster and faster. The interior of the barrier became a storm of light. A harmless-looking bubble before, the barrier crackled with strange energy now. It appeared to be far more solid, a crystallized lattice of energy and fire. "He's accelerating time to the maximum that he can." Ochako heard Izuku whisper.

"How fast are you making it in there? Stop." She heard the monotone translation of Izuku's words. His light danced against her face as she pressed one of her cheeks against his chest. There still wasn't a heartbeat in there, but the sound of a roaring fire. It was comforting that at least now there was noise where there had been none before.

"Izuku? Stop. Are you getting my signal? Stop. Please respond. Stop." His lights strobed across her face as he desperately reached out for contact.

Ochako didn't fully understand everything that was happening, but she knew enough to surmise the problem. Time was too far out of sync for Izuku to communicate with himself. She gripped hard onto his shirt, hoping that her presence against him would offer some comfort. There was no way for her to truly empathize with what he might be going through, but she imagined it was like being unable to reach a family member.

"It looks like it's just you and me now," Izuku said to her as he placed a hand on the back of her head.

Ochako shook her head a little as she faced upward to look in his eyes. "Izuku," she started before reaching up, pulling his face down to meet hers. She touched her lips gently to his. "It was always just you and me, ever since you picked me up and we started running here…"

"Thank you, Ochako," Izuku said before kissing her again. His lips expressed a deep need that hadn't been there before, and Ochako wanted to answer that need.

Izuku leaned in close and whispered to her, opposite of the ear with her earpiece in. "I have a secret… and confession. I can't have the comm piece pick this up. Please just nod if you understand. Don't say anything."

Confused, Ochako nodded. What could he possibly confess… confess?! Her heart hammered in her chest, anxious and hopeful.

"Back when I was speaking to the demon, back when we first met… the only way to get her to leave you all alone was to claim you as my property. The demons are on their way here. I'll have to do the same thing here soon to protect you… I'll have to make them believe that you're my slave." His words dripped with pain. It hurt him to have to say this to her. Was he afraid?

Still… Slave. The word rang down deep into Ochako's soul. The idea of being owned like an animal or worse. The word also caused parts of her to stir that she didn't expect. As much as she recoiled at the idea in general, when she applied the concept of ownership into his hands specifically, she found the idea far more exciting than she would have guessed.

Another doubt crept into her mind. Why deceive everyone and hide that he had deceived the demons? Ochako knew the answer the moment she formed the question in her heart. Humanity already mistrusted Izuku. How much worse would they see him if they knew that he had to play both sides?

Looking up into Izuku's eyes she asked herself if she could trust him that much, with such complete devotion that he would have absolute power over her. Could she trust him to use her as a prop, to play both sides again? Was he toying with her feelings, gaining her confidence, all to help the demons take down humanity? No. He wouldn't do that. She had not known him for long, but she was willing to bet her life that Izuku would never do that.

Ochako nodded, knowing that he wouldn't betray her trust. If there was one person she could surrender to and still feel safe with, it was Izuku. She knew it was crazy to believe in someone so completely after such a short time, but he had proven to her beyond any doubt that he was looking out for everyone the way that a hero was meant to. She also knew it was insane to be aroused by this idea… but right now, everything felt insane.

Ochako shivered when Izuku's lips brushed against her ear. "There are different ways to prove that you're mine."

His. She would have to act like she belonged to him. Not as his girlfriend. Not his in passing. His absolutely, completely.

"Nod when I say one that you're comfortable with. Be very sure about your answer… because there won't be any safeword." There was an edge to his voice, and suddenly Ochako was aware of just how much of her exposed skin was pressed against his.

Safeword. Ochako couldn't help but release a helpless whimper at that thought. She listened intently as Izuku presented various options to her. The idea of doing some of these things had an appeal, but they were absolutely frightening to consider in front of such a hostile audience. Eventually, she heard one that she reluctantly gave a hard nod to.

"You're sure?" Izuku asked.

She nodded again. If someone had told her before all this, warned her about her future, she wouldn't have believed them. She'd never have accepted that she was going to head to work, get attacked by monsters, meet the man of her dreams, and then within one day of knowing him to agree to do… this, this of all things. She would have told them they were insane. Instead, Ochako prepared herself for…

"Rest now," Izuku said, interrupting her thoughts. He moved, breaking the intimacy of their contact, yet held her hand the whole way. He sat on the bench nearby, drawing her towards him. "This is going to be hard. I'll alert you before they get here. You'll need your strength."

Uncertainty filled Ochako. After everything that had just happened, she had not expected the fire he had stirred within her to be left untended like this. This was the part where he was supposed to do something like seductively whispering in her ear and suggest they do a "practice run," and… and then…

"Ochako…" he called out to her, gently ushering her to sit next to him and turning her away from the crystal fires orbiting the Chrysalis. His hands guided her down until she found herself prone on the bench next to him.

She pouted but still allowed Izuku to act as her pillow. "I don't want to sleep… not when my time with you might be cut short… Besides, how am I supposed to get any sleep with the brightest, loudest night light ever over there?"

Izuku ran his fingers through her hair, the warmth of his fingers soothing the skin of her scalp. "Hush. You'll need to be at your best for what comes next. Besides… you told me that you need to be awesome, right?"

Ochako's lips pursed together tightly. "Sleep isn't what I was imagining when I said that."

"Hush now…" he whispered breathily as he turned her head in his lap. The soft air he exhaled wafted across her ear and the noise from the Chrysalis died down, though it wasn't muted entirely.

"Izuku… how?" she was scared.

"You've not lost your hearing. I simply quieted some of the noise… it took a small workaround, but I managed it." He said, smiling down at her.

"I still don't want to sleep," Ochako admitted, defying him. "You can't make me."

Izuku furrowed his brow as she sat upright on the bench, but he didn't stop her. "Then what do you want to do?"

Ochako paused for only a moment. Then, finding her resolve, she sat down again, straddling Izuku's lap. "This," she said as she grabbed at his shirt before pulling it up, revealing his tight muscular frame as she lifted it higher and higher, showing off more and more of those delicious abs.

Izuku smirked as he wrapped his arms around her, effectively stopping her from being able to lift his shirt any higher. "Hey!" she objected at first. Her complaint was cut short when his shirt vanished into smoke and air.

"That so unfair…" she whispered before meeting his lips with her own, relishing the feel of his warmth against her skin. She wouldn't get to watch his muscled torso get unveiled as she lifted his shirt over his head, but this was still nice.

Ochako knew better than to ask Izuku to go much further. His attempt to have her sleep was clear communication to her. He didn't want their first time to be a rushed affair at the end of the world. Part of her was relieved. Part of her was disappointed, but she told that part to shut up so she could keep making out with Izuku.

She was just glad to know that they both wanted more. For now, with the demons on the way, Izuku and Ochako had enough time for just this. Just this, though, was perfect. Her fingers trailed deep into his thick hair as their kisses moved from short explorations to deeper ventures.

Izuku's hands moved down to the small of her back, where her maid uniform left exposed skin for his fingers to explore. Ochako luxuriated in his arms. Staring into his eyes, she was happy. They were happy together. However fleeting this moment might be, Ochako chose to enjoy it.

{}

A pillar of green fire erupted upward, ascending like a tower into the sky from the summit of Mt. Takao. It was visible across Musutafu and several districts beyond. The low thunderous rumbling could be heard clear into the heart of the city.

Bakugou Katsuki had never seen anything like it. He wasn't sure if anyone ever had. It was as if the mountain had become a volcano from another more hellish world.

"Deku…" he whispered, unable to continue his trek across the rooftops. Amazement had captured his mind. Disbelief rocked into his soul.

Deku had done it. He'd gotten to the top of that mountain and lit a signal fire so bright and so massive you'd have to be dead not to notice. If there was any luck or hope left, then the demons would flock to that fire like insects.

The hope that the fire kindled was infectious. The blonde felt it burn inside his chest as though a torch had been thrust inside.

"Deku!" he shouted. "You're not the only one fighting to save everyone, Deku! We're here! We're fighting for our lives down here!"

Katsuki's heart caught in his throat, choking him. His face was wet. He told himself it was just sweat, but he was lying. When Gang Orca turned to make eye contact with him, the younger man saw determination there… and regret.

The two of them had given Deku a lot of shit when he first woke up from whatever these fucking demons were doing to him. They had accused him of being the enemy. Katsuki even raised doubts about Deku's identity.

Radio contact with other heroes had already proven how wrong they both were, how the two of them were assholes to the star player of the home team. Deku had singlehandedly taken out dozens of demons and saved hero teams scattered across the city, heroes foolish enough to fall into traps meant to let these fuckers break their useless truce.

The truce that Deku's mom was still paying for, Katsuki thought as his teeth grated on each other.

Yeah, Katsuki had to admit it. If not for Deku… they'd all be fucked by now.

From the look in Whaleface's eyes, he knew it too. "Come on. We're almost back to ground zero…" the older hero offered.

Full circle, Katsuki realized. "Deku… I'm back to where we started… and you… moved on." The young man whispered to himself. "I'll catch up to you, Deku…" he said for his own sake.

Katsuki was smart enough to know that he was lying to himself, but he needed that lie just so he could stay sane. He needed to focus on the goal of reaching the impossible heights that Deku had ascended. If he didn't, he might look around himself and see how bad things were, or worry about his parents, or Kamui Woods and his team. There was no sense in worry though. They were either going to win or they were going to lose. That was all there was to it.

"I'll catch up to you, Deku… so wait for me at the top!" Katsuki roared as he exploded forward onto the next rooftop.

{}

Endeavor put down his binoculars, uncertain of just what it was he had witnessed. The light from that signal fire was far more obvious than he would have guessed the boy would use, hinting at the dreadful power these demons were endowing him with. He still couldn't understand the flickering lights orbiting around the shell, though.

He heard earlier from Eraserhead that the boy in the shell had bought them all some time and that the demons were slowly trickling out of the city. Now it was clear just what kind of time the boy had secured and how he had done it.

He was luring the demons out of the city. Even now, Endeavor could turn and spot bands of the creatures rushing forward toward their new objective. There was no sign of the commanding officers, though. That worried the newly crowned top hero.

Thinking about the top hero, Endeavor grimaced. Although he was captured, All Might was still proving useful to the world by providing information on the enemy.

Despite the hope the signal fire should have stirred in his chest, the garbled audio that the Support Corp had gathered from All Might's earpiece was disturbing Endeavor's thoughts. Only a select handful of heroes had been told after the recordings were classified.

Endeavor could hardly believe any of this, but the proof was in front of his eyes.

If the entire planet was abducted and being dragged towards the enemy homeworld, then there would be nothing he or anyone else on Earth could do to fight off this threat. Ingenium would have died for nothing. Endeavor couldn't let the man's sacrifice be in vain. He also couldn't allow his family or the millions of other families across the world to be enslaved or worse.

For a moment he thought of his son and daughter, whose faces he had just seen yesterday. Ruefully he wondered if terms like yesterday or today had any meaning anymore, now that there was no sun in the sky.

He wondered where his other children were, wishing he had made more effort to keep the family together. He thought about his wife, trapped and helpless in her hospital room, the vision of demons entering the building while she was helplessly waiting for them.

Thankfully the "sorcery" that had captured their planet had a cornerstone, a weakness. Everything revolved around that shell. The boy, the shell, and the spell were all one for the purpose of mankind's future. The spell needed to be stopped. It needed to be done for the sake of the entire world. If either the boy could be killed or the shell destroyed, then the spell would end. The demons would try again, but it would at least buy them time to formulate a resistance.

He shook his head, wondering at how casually he had accepted terminologies such as spells or cornerstones. Still… failing to act due to his small-mindedness could doom all of mankind.

The boy had been brave and noble enough to take the shell outside of the city… making it possible to destroy it without too much collateral damage or loss of human life. After silently offering the young man a conciliatory prayer of gratitude, one that he hoped would guide his poor soul to a better afterlife, he deactivated his earpiece before taking out a satellite phone.

Despite the invitation from the Prime Minister, the Hero Association had objected loudly to international interference. The politicians, afraid of the backlash they'd face for allowing a Japanese city to be bombed, had deescalated the request. The Americans hadn't taken kindly to being redirected to the Tokyo Narita airport, nor had the civilian population reacted well to the airport being shut down for military use. Grumbling and complaining, though, everyone involved had followed the rules.

However, the Americans' proximity would allow them to deploy here far faster than if they had returned to Okinawa. Endeavor could make use of that fact now that they had a target outside of a populated area.

The line on the other end rang only once.

After receiving a curt greeting, Endeavor said his piece, the one he had run through in his head several times before pressing send on the call. "Yes. I have an eye on your target. I don't think you'll need any guidance. If your pilots can't spot this, then they're incompetent… Also, I'm officially using my position in the Hero Association and invoking the invitation you received from our Prime Minister. Endeavor out."

Endeavor had cast the die. He just hoped that it was the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here, at last, is the second half of the chapter I promised you all. As you can see, chopping it into two parts was the right decision. Even with that it still outgrew my expectations. Writing this fic is teaching me things about my writing that I never knew before, such as how bad I am at estimating the length of my work before I get into it.
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to read and offer feedback on my writing style and the choices I have made as an author while writing this fiction. You all are helping me grow as an author, and that means a lot to me.
> 
> We just broke into the 700s on FF dot net! We also are (for now) the top Exalted fic by kudos and bookmarks on AO3. Both of those facts blow my mind. At 701 followers, 552 favorites, 255 reviews, and over 117,627 views on FF dot net, as well as 219 kudos, 61 bookmarks, and 6,681 hits on AO3, you all have blown me away. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> I have yet to do my edit on chapters 5, so I'll do 5 and 6 in a single run, correcting for grammar and errors. Hopefully, my editor will be available again soon, but in the meantime, I am going to polish my work further and further.
> 
> For anyone that wants to talk on Discord, please message me on AO3 where it's possible to share links. It's not the server I wanted to build, but it's one that I frequent where the host, Epsi (author of Total Command, a fic worth reading) has let me know it's fine to invite people on.
> 
> As I said in my review-notes on FF, this has been a hard two weeks. We lost a friend of the family amid other hardships. We can't attend the service because there is a travel ban and there won't even be a service for us to attend due to how many back to back customers the funeral home has right now. So please, all of you, please stay healthy and be careful out there!
> 
> I look forward to sharing my next chapter with you, and hopefully, it will be soon. Next up: Ground Zero!


	24. Ground Zero

Sand coalesced on a silent breeze, soldering together in brilliant flashes of green light. No one was there to witness this event, yet for two people it meant the difference between life and death.

Kirishima Eijiro was the first of the two to open his eyes. Camie was cowering in his arms, clinging hard onto him. He could feel his shirt complaining about how her fists were mauling the fabric. Eijiro marveled that her skin was already sun-touched just from the brief time they had spent in that forsaken desert. He hoped to never see that place ever again, yet he knew he'd feel a pull back to that desolate wasteland until the day it, or she, called in his debt.

She. Cecelyne. Both place and person. The thought was mind-bending, but there was no time to consider that now. "Hey, it's safe now. You can open your eyes."

Kirishima couldn't help but admit to himself that Camie was adorable. She opened just one eye at first, peering up at him from where her face nuzzled into his neck. Her lips were chapped from her brief time in the desert, but they still pouted softly. Kissably. "You're sure?"

Nope. Can't think that way, he said to himself. "Yeah, I'm sure. Let's go find the others."

They reappeared from where they had left, but now it was just the two of them alone on the rooftop. Neither of them had any idea how much time had passed since they were whisked away to that foreign world.

"Eijiro," Camie began, her voice low like a smothered moan. "What's that hard thing pressing against my leg?"

"Oh!" he remarked without missing a beat, stepping back to create enough distance between them that the object could be looked at by both quite clearly. "It's the statue I used to get us… to… you know, I don't even fully understand what I did with it, but we're back, and I still have it."

The salt statue peered out from his pocket stoically. It was angled in such a way though that he knew it couldn't be mistaken for anything else, except maybe… oh. "But… um… if you… if you thought what I think you were thinking, then thanks for the compliment, I guess?" he couldn't help but stammer a little.

Camie giggled at his flustered face. Her laugh sounded like sweet music. She stepped closer to him, filling the space between them. The way her fingers delicately circled the head of the statue sent his mind reeling, as did the view of her breasts when he looked down to see what her hand was doing. "Anytime," she winked.

He turned and coughed, looking around to see if there was any sign of where Kamui Woods or the others had gone.

Just then, there was a thunderous roar, a guttural cry from something savage and monstrous. Camie stepped back from the noise while Eijiro stepped forward, placing himself between her and the direction the noise came from.

He stared hard across the ephemeral bridge linking the other building to their location. "It's from somewhere in there. I have a feeling we're about to get into a fight."

For once, Camie's voice had a hard edge to it. "We have to help, Eijiro."

Eijiro looked back at her over his shoulder. She sounded so brave yet looked so small and weak. He marveled at how similar she was in that moment to Mina when he first noticed his feelings for his best friend. "Stay behind me. I'll tank whatever gets in our way," he said with a full toothed grin.

"I'll make illusions of more of you so we can distract the enemy," she said.

Eijiro nodded, glad for the backup. The two made a brisk run for it, crossing the bridge and moving swiftly through the apartment whose balcony it was connected to. Soon they found the stairwell and waited there, listening for any more sounds. They knew there was a fight happening somewhere in the building but was it from above or below where they now stood?

"Hold on," Camie whispered. Eijiro wasn't sure what she was up to until she breathed out a trail of glowing mist. Soon he was surrounded with copies of himself.

"That's a neat trick," he whispered back. "Just how realistic are they?" he asked as he reached out to touch one of his copies. Eijiro's hand passed through a smiling version of his face, passing through it like he was dipping his hand through the still surface of a reflective pond.

"I can make them more tangible, but not while managing this many," she said. "Unfortunately, I can't make them tangible for myself, though, since I can't fall for my own illusions."

He thought for a long moment, confused. "So… you could trick me into thinking one of them is touching me, but you couldn't make it solid enough to throw something?"

Her smirk sent a shiver down his spine and straight into his groin. "That's one way to put it. So yeah, I could have a few illusions touch you if that's what you wanted."

"Uh…" his brain completely stopped working. Eijiro reset his thoughts when Camie dispersed the copies she had made through the stairwell. They made the sounds you'd expect from a bunch of dudes running up or down a flight of stairs. Some of them even spoke up with ad-lib banter, offering to race the others or encouraging slogans you might find on the walls of a gym.

"Do I really sound like that?" he asked, more than a little worried about what other people saw in him.

"Oh yeah, right down to your use of the word 'bro' when you want to seem extra friendly." Camie's smirk hadn't left her face and probably wouldn't for a while. It was flirty, yet it also projected a get-shit-done attitude that he liked.

"Oh fuck!" one of the copies cried out from above just before it was shot through the gut by a large projectile. The ballistic moved harmlessly through the illusionary Eijiro and splattered noxious acid all over the other wall.

Eijiro instinctively hardened his skin and used his body to cover Camie, shielding her from any acid that might stray down onto their position. Tiny drops of the acrid substance splattered onto his back, eating holes in his shirt and rending his hardened carapace into a cracked shell. The burning sensation was excruciating, but he bore through it, reminding himself of just what kind of hero he wanted to be.

"You alright?" he asked her, trying to keep his voice even so that Camie wouldn't worry about how much pain he was in. He couldn't hide the worry in his voice though, genuinely concerned for her wellbeing.

"Bro, that was rude!" one of the illusions called out, only to receive a guttural roar from some monster in response.

"I'm okay… are you?" Camie tried to ask him.

Eijiro smiled with more bravado and confidence than he actually felt. "Yeah. Now, excuse me while I go tear that motherfucker apart, okay?"

{}

Gang Orca lead his younger charge to where it all began. The place seemed dead and abandoned. The burn marks and rubble were interrupted by splatters of blood.

The eerie bridge that linked the two apartment buildings floated on glowing runes. In the stillness, the bridge hummed with a quiet yet constant thrumming.

Cries for help over the comms followed by dead silence. This was not a good sign.

Gang Orca switched his watch to a tracking application. His gargantuan frame meant that his support gear was sized up to him, making the screen large enough that Bakugou could make out some of the details from over a meter away. "Kamui should be this way," he gestured to the other side of the bridge. The two decided to see what was left of the temporary command center.

No one knew just how temporary the Support Corps outpost would be, or how brutally it would be attacked. The place looked like a corpse after vultures had eaten their fill. The equipment, though abandoned, had been picked clean of useful technology. There were deep cuts into the walls, the windows had shattered, and silver sand littered the floor.

According to the tracking device, they should have been practically on top of Kamui and his team. Where were they?

Katsuki glanced this way and that, trying to help the older hero puzzle out the solution. Something crumpled under his shoe, a rustling noise that sounded louder than gunfire against the backdrop of silence.

It was a lonely piece of paper. It clung to Katsuki's boot like a desperate beggar. Help me, it cried.

He lifted his leg to pry the thing off, annoyed more than anything, when he saw that his name was written on the outside of the folded scrap.

As Katsuki brought the note closer to his face, examining it, he was filled with a dreadful sense of foreboding. He unfolded the paper slowly, already tracing the lines of a notebook with his eyes.

Deku's note stabbed Katsuki clean through his heart. He didn't understand how to think or feel. The paper felt like it would burn his hand, yet he couldn't let go.

{}

Kacchan,

By the time you find this note, I'll have taken your advice. Don't worry. I won't jump off the school. I have a better plan than that. I hope you get into U.A. and I hope you become a better Hero than you were a friend. I always looked up to you. Please never treat anyone the way you treated me. I now know what it is like to have a Hero look down on you. Don't do that when you become a Hero.

Don't blame yourself. You're not the reason I'm doing this.

Your friend,

Izuku.

{}

"He looked up to me," Katsuki whispered. "He looked up to a piece of shit like me, just like everyone else did." The blonde struggled. It felt like someone had punched him hard in the gut but somehow had forgotten to remove their fist.

"What was that?" Gang Orca asked from the other side of the room, barely looking up from the equipment he was messing with, some invention of the Support Corps.

"Nothing," Katsuki uttered as he stuffed the note deep into his pocket. He winced as the paper crumpled in its new confinement. It deserved more respect than that…

Deku deserved more respect than that, he thought, bitterly, resentfully.

Could Katsuki make everything right? No, he told himself, hating himself for the honesty of that answer. But no matter what, he could do one thing Deku had asked for.

Katsuki could become a better hero than he was a friend.

"Hey, uh, Orca? If the tracker says they're here… maybe we should head up and down? You know… vertical?" the blonde shrugged, wondering if they were simply approaching the problem with too simple a mindset.

The older hero looked tired. They all were. It made it difficult for any of them to think straight. No matter what, though, they had to press on, regardless of how their exhaustion made them thoughtless or careless.

After all, it didn't look like the enemy needed to sleep.

"Alright, let's head up and work our way through the building." He offered.

{}

Yaoyorozu Momo had worked longer and harder in the past forty-eight hours than she ever had in her life, and part of her secretly loved every minute of it. The rest of her, though, was tired. Ashido Mina and she had made themselves indispensable, helping Midnight with evacuation efforts on the northwest part of Musutafu.

Thanks to the R-rated Heroine and Eraserhead, both Momo and Mina had not only ample ways to be useful but also got to meet over a dozen upperclassmen from U.A., who were the primary responders at the evacuation centers outside the city. Once there, people were triaged, given meals, and eventually loaded into buses that would take them to hotels scattered across Japan that had generously donated rooms for the evacuation effort. Quietly, Momo was proud to see the names of several hotel brands her family had heavily invested in appeared repeatedly on the destination list.

In just the two hours since they had parted ways with Gang Orca and Eraserhead, their team alone had rescued a dozen families, more than fifty people, before they lost count. The last bus was an emotional departure for them. The two young women waved goodbye as three small boys from two separate families jumped up and down at their window seats, waving goodbye to their rescuers.

For two aspiring heroes, that felt damn good.

It didn't feel good when the two were denied re-entry with Aizawa and his all-pro team. The newly formed unit would guide no fewer than five buses into the heart of Musutafu. Their destination was the NTT Medical Center Musutafu, the little sister hospital to the same brand in Tokyo. There they had the unenviable task of loading patients that the doctors and nurses had refused to abandon. The buses had every seat removed just to make room for the necessary equipment and stackable bunks necessary for patient transport.

"For civilian deputies, you two have done a lot. You both… your families should be extremely proud. I know I am." Aizawa had said to both young women as he readied to depart. "I have students who took more than a year to comport themselves with the same attitude you both have shown."

The older hero did not say goodbye as he turned to leave. He didn't utter his desire to see the two of them, safe and hopefully in his class. That didn't sit well with the pink-skinned young woman, though. Ashido Mina yelled out after him, "Then look forward to us showing up those students when you see us at U.A!"

"Eraserhead!" Momo called out to him. "Thank you for taking care of us! We wouldn't have made it this far without you!"

Aizawa paused, not daring to turn around before resuming his ascendance into the bus. It wouldn't do to let the deputies see that their shouted farewells had brought a tear to his eye.

"Alright!" loud and proud, the pro-hero Miruko stood atop the lead bus. "Let's get a move on this thing! Go, go, go!"

As the security gate parted, allowing the buses to re-enter the forbidden city, Momo was caught by motion in her peripheral vision. Her heart stirred, fluttering in her chest when she saw that Mina was crying. "Hey," the taller woman said. "Come on, it'll be alright."

Sniffling, the pink-haired woman shrugged. "I just… it finally hit me that we've been coming back and forth to this camp," she gestured outward to the staging area of the evacuation center, "and I still don't know what happened to a lot of people that I care about."

Momo placed a hand around the other woman as she turned her back towards one of the benches. "You're worried about your boyfriend, Eiji?"

"Eijiro," Mina corrected. "But not just him. I don't know what happened to his family, or some of my friends… and what about Uraraka? What about Ochako?"

Momo decided to do something a bit wasteful and a bit silly. Reaching into one of the pockets of a belt she had made earlier that day, she pulled out her phone before turning it back on. It was a waste of power when she had no signal and no way to recharge, but if it helped cheer Mina up, then it was worth it.

Momo quickly found the video of Izuku that Mina had shared yesterday, back when the disaster was limited just to Musutafu as far as everyone knew. Before the sky had changed and the world had gone completely mad with fear. Now, any distraction from the fate of their sunless world wasn't frivolous but a necessity for sanity and morale.

"Take a look at him, really look at him," Momo said to her companion in deputized heroics.

Mina chuckled between tears, laughing and crying all at once. "You mean his ass, abs, or that face?"

Momo shook her head. Those were all very nice, she admitted to herself, but that's not what she wanted to achieve here. "Look at him, not just how good he looks. Look at how powerful he is, how protective he is. Do you really think he'd let anything happen to her? Don't you think Eraserhead and Midnight took measure of him before letting Uraraka go with him?"

Mina's lips quivered. "But… it's just him versus all of those monsters. They'll be swarmed. Momo… are we all on the losing side of this thing?"

Yes. They were losing. Momo knew that. The sun wasn't visible in the sky from any part of the world. Immortal monsters were scattered all across Musutafu. All Might, the greatest hero in Japan, had been captured. More than a dozen well-known heroes had already been pronounced dead, and others were missing. Everywhere she looked, people were losing hope.

Momo couldn't just spit all that out, though. She didn't want to reaffirm Mina's fears, even if she shared them.

Just then, far to their southwest, fire and light roared into the sky. The shockwave sent out a thunderclap of noise that echoed across and beyond Musutafu. A tower of green fire stood from the apex of Mount Takao, standing defiant against the sunless sky, bringing light and warmth to the surrounding world of twilight. The fire rumbled and roared like the grinding noise of a tornado, constant and churning, a forge-fire fed by otherworldly fuel.

The two young women instinctively clung tighter together at the sudden explosion. Momo, however, was smiling. She was shocked but wasn't afraid. Not as much as she was just a few moments earlier. Her existential dread was banished alongside the darkness. "We've been losing since this started, Mina, but not anymore."

Momo held up the image of Midoriya Izuku before their faces as the two looked at his defiant features and the gout of green fire atop the mountain the distance. "We have the Shining fucking Prince on our side."

Another miracle happened just then, albeit a smaller and less impressive one.

Momo's phone rang. The noise was barely noticed by anyone else at the makeshift camp, but to Momo and Mina, it was like the tiny device had shocked them both with electricity. "Answer it!" Mina cried out, not even taking the time to take in who might be calling. The mere act of talking long-distance was itself something to no longer take for granted.

Momo didn't recognize the number. It wasn't in her contacts. Still, it was the only call anyone in this camp had seen outside the satellite network that the heroes were using.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Momo! Oh, thank god it worked. Are you alright? Are you in Musutafu still, or near it? Are you near the mountain?" her father's voice shot out from the speaker with dreadful panic and relief blended together in a torrent of words. Momo barely could keep up with him.

"Father! I, um, yes, I'm okay! How are you able to call me? All the cell towers here are out!" Momo was trying to process all of this, but still, her curiosity overwhelmed her relief at hearing a familiar voice.

"I'm using the satellite network and bouncing the signal through the Support Corps. Never underestimate what Yaoyorozu Industries can do, Momo. But enough of that. Answer me: are you in Musutafu? Are you near Mount Takao?" the man's voice spoke of an urgency that set Momo's neck-hairs alight with static energy, a prickling sensation of dread moving up and down her spine before settling sourly in her gut.

There was ice encroaching into Momo's voice, but all her father heard was caution in his daughter's changing tone. "No father, I'm north of the city. The mountain is southwest of me, I can see it from here but it's a feature on the horizon. Why do I think you know what's happening there even though you're on a business trip in Osaka?"

Her father released a long heaving sigh of relief. Somehow that sound made Momo's skin prickle even worse than before as cold dread radiated up and down her back. "I know enough, Momo. Promise me that you'll stay away from there. For that matter, make your way immediately to Narita Airport and I'll have a jet pick you up. It'll take some doing but…"

"No," Momo uttered her decision with severe finality. "I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me what it is that you know. Somehow I don't think you're just watching the news."

"Momo, don't test me, I'm looking out for you," her father replied, both demanding and pleading.

"Father, tell me what you know." Momo stood her ground, barely realizing that she was drawing strength from Mina as the other woman gripped onto her fingers. Those golden eyes shone with encouragement, telling Momo that she could do this, and together they could do anything.

It was funny that just moments ago, it was Momo trying to cheer up Mina, but there was no time to muse over all that now. Her father had been silent in response to her demand for too long. It was time for the ultimate game of brinkmanship. "You have ten seconds to start telling me whatever it is you're hiding, or I hang up and find out for myself."

Her father practically hissed as he inhaled through gritted teeth. "Fine, Momo. I'll spare the political details, but the summary is this: Japan's internal checks and balanced just unchecked themselves. And the result of our nation caving into a panic? The Americans are being invited to bomb Mount Takao, and they are not going light on the ammunition. By the time they are done the entire mountain will become a crater."

Momo's blood felt cold and sluggish. It was like her heart had stopped pumping properly. Images of Uraraka Ochako, the adorable waitress turned badass would-be hero, flashed through her mind. Momo couldn't help but think about the other woman's smile, her curiosity at Momo's reading, how she stood up to defend a restaurant before anyone else did, and how she had reminded the heroes who was and was not the enemy.

Then Momo pictured that smile burned away by a bomb from the sky, and hot tears of rage welled in her eyes. "Father… thank you for telling me," she said while trying to figure out her next steps.

"Now, Momo, tell me where exactly you are. Maybe I can arrange a helicopter for you…" her father began, trying to hold her to their bargain.

"How long until they take off, and from where?" Momo caught him flat-footed.

"They're fueling and re-loading their bombs right now at Narita. They're sending a large squadron out, so it could take over an hour before they take off…" he began.

"Father, thank you for everything. However, I need to remind you of something." Momo had rarely interrupted her father. Now she had done it three times in one phone call.

Momo didn't wait for the obligatory "What?" on the other end of the line. She squeezed Mina's hand, silently thanking her for supporting her throughout this call, and for not having an outburst when the other woman undoubtedly overheard the news. "Do you remember the day that I told you and mother that I wanted to become a hero?" she asked.

"I do," her father replied, dread building in his voice like a flood behind a crumbling dam.

"You're about to see what that looks like in practice." And with that, Momo hung up on her father.

"What happens now? What do we do?" Mina asked, leaving their shared fears unspoken.

"First, we track down Midnight. Then, we go extract Ochako before anything can happen to her. That's what happens next." Momo said, marching toward the triage tents. Mina quickly caught up, matching the taller woman's long authoritative stride.

{}

Bakugou roared up to the rooftop far faster than Gang Orca could keep up. The plan was for them to stick together and systematically work their way through the building. However, they both moved at very different speeds.

Katsuki knew he was not supposed to get too far ahead of the older pro, but he was eager and impatient. He felt a need to catch up to Deku, to show that he could, like Deku had predicted, be a hero, and he couldn't do that while hiding behind the pros.

He never expected, however, to find his mother close to the top floor. He spotted her through an apartment window. The glass was shattered. The room looked like someone had shot holes through the walls.

His mother was laying on a bed of broken glass, burnt carpet, and dried blood. It was an image Katsuki would never forget for the rest of his life, like someone had laser etched it into his retina.

She looked awful. Battered and bruised, she was difficult to recognize to anyone except those closest to her. Her lips and nose trickled fresh blood over old scabs. One of her eyes was swollen shut, the cheekbone beneath painfully out of place.

"Mom!" he cried out, running to her.

His old hag, Mitsuki, didn't respond.

He held his mother, propping her up. She seemed so light, so fragile in his arms. Checking her neck first, Katsuki confirmed a pulse. He fought back tears as he held her, trying to look her over for anything broken.

"Mom! Mom! Please, just wake up! I promise if you do, I'll never call you an old hag again!" he shouted, not caring who or what heard him. He couldn't process that whatever had done this to his mother could still be nearby.

"Ka…" she breathed out, turning on good eye up to look at his face. She seemed so helpless. It broke his heart to see her this way.

"I'll hold you… to that," she got the words out, obviously through some pain in her chest.

"It's going to be okay, mom. I've got you. Whaleface… Gang Orca is on his way up. We'll get you to a hospital…" he panicked at the thought, knowing that by now the hospitals in town would be getting evacuated if the process wasn't done already. Could his mom wait long enough to be taken to a hospital in another city? Would those be full as well?

Katsuki didn't even notice when Gang Orca arrived. He didn't turn when the large man stood right behind him, his loud footsteps marking his passage for anyone paying attention. He was too absorbed in his thoughts and his worry over the woman who bore and raised him, the helpless woman in his arms.

"Bakugou Mitsuki… what happened to your car? Did you rendezvous with your husband?" the hero's voice sounded somehow ominous, deeper than Katsuki remembered it.

"Things… apes…" Mitsuki breathed out. Something had attacked his mother, that much was clear. Katsuki examined her head with his fingers, looking for signs of trauma. Blood trickled down his fingers when he touched the back of her head. The metallic stench of fresh blood filled his nose.

Rage burned inside of him. Those fucking apes… those fucking demons would pay for this!

"Where did you say your husband worked, Bakugou?" Gang Orca asked, his tone more ominous than before.

His mother hesitated, struggling to think.

"Young man, set her down gently. Let's discuss our next moves." The pro hero was unsettled by something, probably by what the monsters had done to Mitsuki, to Katsuki's mom.

"Don't go…" she breathed out, mustering as much of her pathetic strength as she could. Her quiet desperation stirred up Katsuki's heart, filling him with knives of agony.

"Listen to me, young Bakugou, we have to figure out our next move. Let's talk over there…" there was an edge of urgency to the pro hero's voice. Katsuki couldn't figure out what could have the man on edge like this. Sure, whatever monster had done this to his mom could still be out there somewhere…

That was when Katsuki noticed. He'd been blind to it before. His mother was wearing a casual blouse and skirt, the kind she normally wore around the house. It was torn and bloody, but he still recognized it. She had at least three pairs of just this blouse, and at least that many of the skirt. These were the outfits he saw her in the most. The colors would change, but not by much.

Earlier, she had been dressed for work. It was a navy dress-suit. She had taken the jacket off, but her white blouse underneath and navy pants had remained. There was no way she would have gone home, changed her clothes, and then went off to search for his father.

Cold sweat beaded on Katsuki's forehead as the hairs on his neck stood up. Waves of dread traveled up and down his spine, forcing him to suppress a cold shiver. Whatever this was, it was not his mother.

"Mom, it'll be okay," he tried to act the part of a concerned son. It was easy, he told himself. He'd just use the fear and anxiety and try to act up the panic he was feeling over his mother's health. "I'll figure things out, and we'll get you to a hospital."

She placed a hand on his cheek, trailing blood onto his face. "Katsuki… my beautiful boy" was something his mother had never called him. Her battered face, smiling up at him, was still too heart wrenching for him to look at without doubting his conviction. Was this his mother or not?

"Young Bakugou…" the hero pleaded without pleading, his words hiding an undercurrent of urgency.

"Thank you," his mother breathed out, or the thing pretending, he was no longer sure. However, her smile somehow seemed wrong just then.

"Of course, mom," Katsuki sniffled snot back into his nose.

Just then her fingers on his face trailed back to become an iron grip onto his neck. "Thank you for confirming what your mother looks like for us."

Katsuki's blood turned cold at her words. "What?"

{}

"Damnit!" Eijiro cried out after just barely dodging another discharge of acid-filled ballistics.

Once he ascended the stairs to get within arms reach of the monster, the conflict immediately escalated. It was only thanks to the illusion-clones supplied by Camie that he was able to make it this far, but he wondered if that would be enough.

"Sick claws, bro!" one of the copies said even as another monster slashed uselessly through it.

Yeah, now Kirishima had to contend with two of these things. Unlike the copies, he could get hurt by these monsters, but thankfully he could hurt them back.

"You got this, bro." one of the copies said, not turning towards him, but Eijiro knew that this was Camie's way of encouraging him. She was down below in the stairwell behind him. If he had his way, that's where she would stay, thoroughly hidden away so that she wouldn't be in any real danger.

He didn't want to think about how he'd live with himself if anything happened to her, and that thought had nothing to do with the debt lingering over his soul. He just sincerely worried about her, far more than he was used to. He tried not to think about how his thoughts lingered over her more than they did over Kamui Woods or Yoarishi, or even Iida, the tagalong they had picked up. For some reason, the idea of anything bringing harm to Camie stirred up a deep rage inside Eijiro's soul.

He told himself it was just because she was a hot woman, and defending women was the manly thing to do. That philosophical self-inspection over with, Eijiro charge in.

The only hope that he had of winning this fight was to make it quick. Two opponents against one meant that they could outlast and outmaneuver him. Thankfully, he had plenty of decoys working to confuse them, giving him the chance to make this into an ambush. He'd never heard of an ambush where the defender got to take potshots at the attacker before they came in range, though.

It looked however like these two monsters were dumber than rocks, so he had that going for him. He charged in, hardening his skin into a tough carapace before punching the clawed monster hard across the beak. The thing lost at least two teeth, and that was satisfying.

It replied by raking a claw across his chest, but thankfully his armored skin shrugged that off. Sparks flew where the metallic claws met stone-hard skin. Good, that meant that he could knock this thing out of the fight without too much worry, so long as he kept an eye on its cannoneer friend.

His clothes, however, were getting shredded to bits.

"Hit me with your best shot!" one of his copies cried out as it dodged another volley from the cannon-backed monstrosity. "That thing looks heavy, you need help lifting that thing, bro?" another asked in mock-helpfulness.

It may have been intended at a joke, but it gave Eijiro a dangerous idea. He grabbed up the clawed beast, firmly gripping onto its back. Without giving it a moment to compose itself, he ran headlong into the business end of the cannon just as it was about to fire.

The result could have gone better, but it got the job done.

Acid splattered everywhere after the bomb burst onto the clawed monster's exposed chest. The thing cried out, shrieking in agony as smoke rose from the craterous holes the acid bore into its exposed skin. Eijiro was faring only marginally better, his hardened carapace sizzling and cracking where acid strayed chaotically into small bursts on his arms and back. He was smart enough to duck his head behind the clawed freaks' back, shielding his eyes and the rest of his face from damage.

However, he had to beat at the top of his head to put a fire out. The acid this thing fired caused his hair product to ignite. Or maybe it just lit hair in general. He'd ask Mina about that later.

He shucked his screaming meat shield to the side and moved quickly towards the projectile lobbing beast before slugging it hard enough to crack the beak and blind one of its eyes.

"Just you and me, you bastard! Let's do this!" he yelled, driving more hard punches home.

The monster roared in response, lashing out with a long spiked tail, one that Eijiro had not taken note of before charging in.

"Shit!" he cried out, ducking low to avoid getting his skull crushed. He couldn't help but grin nervously, "Alright fucker let's dance!"

{}

Things moved amazingly fast just then, faster than Katsuki's mind could keep up with.

Gang Orca roared, thrusting his fist downward past Katsuki's face. The creature pretending to be Mitsuki had to either move or absorb the blow, and it chose to move. Its claws raked across the back of Katsuki's neck and along his jawline, sending a spray of blood outward as the monster rolled from his arms. Rising, the thing sent out a spray of daggers from across the room.

Katsuki turned, wanting to suppress the pain as he lashed out with an explosion to knock the daggers off course. Gang Orca, though, was faster, blocking the attack with his arm and shoulder. The guttural curse under the hero's breath was just as painful to listen to as the gash across Katsuki's jawline was to feel.

All pretense of humanity cast aside; the monster stopped mimicking any sign of injury. Bruises faded. Bones reknit themselves. Blood retreated into cuts and orifices before wounds sealed themselves shut. "So… what was your first clue, hero?" she directed to Gang Orca.

"Simple," the gargantuan man stood at his full height as Katsuki scrambled to his own feet. "There is no reason she would be here, and nothing she could have done that would violate our truce."

The face of Mitsuki smiled a predatory grin. It looked so wrong on her, this alien expression on his mother's face. "Speaking of… you tried to attack me, hero. The truce no longer applies to you."

"What do you want from us? From me? Why are you targeting me?!" Katsuki asked, caught between rage and desperation, between anger at being picked on and the fear that he had unwittingly betrayed his mother. His voice and insides trembled on that precipice between despair and fury.

She smiled at him with his mother's mouth, at her make-believe son. "Honestly? Because these scouting missions get so boring. They play out the same way every time. We elevate a new Prince, we assess local defenses, we take the Prince back, only to return years later once his training is complete. Over and over, it always goes the same way. So, I decided to have some fun… and maybe, just maybe, if you prove amusing enough, I'll make you into my pet. It would be a much better fate than the pits, but I don't know yet if you're worth the investment."

Interceding with his massive body, Gang Orca stood between the two, uncaring that three daggers were lodged into his arm and shoulder. "Don't respond to her. Don't attack her. Whatever you do, no matter what happens to me… don't break that truce, young Bakugou. Don't fall into her trap."

The expression on her face changed to one of disinterested disgust. Bakugou recognized that look. He'd expressed it hundreds of times whenever Deku would stand up for someone. He knew what came next. The bully would pick on the new target, welcoming the renewal of violence that came with fresh meat. The annoyance of defiance would fuel a renewed commitment to carnage.

It made Bakugou's stomach sick to understand her even on that level. In the end, all bullying is the same at the root, it's just a matter of extremity and scale in how it plays out.

The imitation of Bakugou's mother crouched low into a combat-ready stance, the look of disdain and disgust never leaving her face. The face and body, however, did change. Blonde hair melted away into long locks of smooth raven black hair. Lightly tanned skin paled into thick white makeup coating a face of elegance from a bygone era. Casual clothes embellished themselves into a flowing kimono that hid the woman's… no, the demon's thin form.

Both hero and deputy immediately recognized the woman. She had threatened to kill them all from just beyond the light of Izuku's Chrysalis. There was no light between them this time, and there were only two of them.

Mara, Deku had named her back then. The name was stuck in Bakugou's skull.

Iron-blackened teeth reflected the pale green light from the sky beyond the broken window as Mara, the Shadow Lover, bared her teeth. "Let's play, then," she said before darting forward at an alarming speed.

{}

Eijiro's copies caught on quickly, taking his verbal queue and moving around the long-tailed cannon wielding monster, encircling it and confusing it.

The monstrous beast roared, lashing out with its tail and firing smaller rounds of explosive acid-balls here and there.

"Woo! Good dodge, bro!" one of the illusions said, encouraging one of the others right before the giant tail moved harmlessly through its head.

Eijiro noticed a problem immediately after that. Once the tail moved through one of the illusions, the monster ignored them. It was learning and was doing it far faster than Eijiro was comfortable with. "Camie, we got a problem!" he cried out, which unfortunately got the thing's attention.

"What do you need, bro?" one of the copies asked. Good, she wasn't going to give away her position. He was thankful for that even as he dodged another tail strike.

"Make them feel pain! This thing is learning! Then send reinforcements!" he cried out, and just then, when the tail lashed out, it struck one of the copies, sending the ephemeral copy flying into a nearby wall.

The beast saw that it had inflicted damage and turned to focus hard on the one it perceived at real. Eijiro knew that this was his chance and charge at the ugly monster from the side.

Two more copies writhed in agony while melting from acid. The monster was getting even more distracted. Kirishima reached and grappled hard onto the tail, fighting the muscular appendage with the strength of his muscles and by strategically hardening his body, locking his grip into place.

He couldn't resist it. He had to do it.

"Stop hitting yourself!" he shouted with far more joy than he thought he'd feel while wailing onto the creature's back and exposed brain with the monster's spiked tail. "Stop hitting yourself!" he repeated several more times.

Blood splatted outward where the spikes hit home. No longer distracted, the monster tried to reassert control over its tail again, but Eijiro hooked the end of it into the business end of the cannon. Both were made of the same organic-metal amalgamation and were resistant to the monster's acid.

Flesh ripped and blood poured out from the base of the cannon as Eijiro used himself as a wedge, driving the tail backward while still hooked onto the cannon itself. He was going to rip this fucking thing in half no matter what.

He roared, covered in blood while hardening himself. Even as this thing reared back and lashed out at him, he strained every muscle in his body, prying the cannon off the monster's back. The creature fired haphazardly, the ballistic charged bursting with acid like a fountain at the end of the cannon.

Kirishima's skin was splattered with the foul substance. It smelled like spoiled eggs and felt like his arm and abs were on fire where he had been touched.

"I am unbreakable!" he screamed.

Then the monster went limp. Removing the cannon had severed the beast's spine. "Fuck yeah!" Eijiro cried out, ignoring the cracks in the carapace on his arm and torso. He had done it. He'd won.

He hadn't won without help, though. "Camie! Camie, where are you?" he cried out, suddenly caught between excitement and worry.

He was so high on adrenaline that if she had come to him, wanton and willing, there was no telling what he would have done, what he would have let her do. Already over the heat of battle, his body converted leftover energy from surviving the battle into sexual anticipation.

That, however, is not what happened.

Camie emerged from the behind a corner, her face wet with tears. She was heaving, sobbing, holding onto a parcel like it was a sickly child. One she couldn't save.

"Camie?" he asked as the wind left his sails. Then he saw what she was holding. Tears welled in his eyes.

"I found him… out in the hall, there was a hole to another apartment and…" she couldn't talk after that. She just sobbed.

Kamui Woods was a good man. He deserved better than this.

Eijiro did what he thought was the right thing to do. He held her, gently, even as she held onto the severed head of the hero that had deputized them. He kissed her forehead before pressing his own to hers. Silently, they mourned for the man that had helped them so much and watched over them all.

"We should look for the others," he whispered to her, and she nodded, her forehead rubbing against his.

Later, he would ask himself why he did it. At that moment though, he didn't think about the next hour or the next day. He thought only about the crying woman in front of him, about her sense of loss and uncertainty, and everything they had endured together. He kissed wet tears from just beneath her eye.

As though thirsty to have those tears back, she turned her face to meet his, and the two pairs of lips met. Their lips brushed gently, neither pushing things beyond how somber the moment was.

It's hard to kiss passionately when you're both weeping. So they held each other and cried, neither able to take it all in. Their tears mingled where their faces touched. Water fell from their chins and cheeks as though one river with two tributaries. The river ended where the two held onto the last remains of their guide and teacher, wetting the bark-skin of their fallen hero, Kamui Woods.

{}

"Stay back!" Gang Orca shouted, ordering Katsuki to keep a tight reign on his combat instincts.

Katsuki wanted to rush forward. He wanted to blow her face off. He wanted to do something, anything, other than just watch. A dark part of his mind told himself: This is what it's like to have someone stand up for you, someone weaker than your bully, but still stronger than you.

The demonic woman toyed with her food.

Every punch that Gang Orca threw, every attack that he sent forward, all of them were dodged or deflected. The woman appeared so frail and helpless next to him, but Katsuki already knew that it was an act. Her expression was one of fear and worry, but it was too exaggerated, too cartoonish to be real emotion.

Her attack was as deadly as it was subtle. She lashed out with lightning speed, missing his face, yet that was intentional. As she withdrew her hand, she ran the tips of her fingers delicately along Gang Orca's jawline. Her fingers curled inward as though bidding him, "Come hither."

The entire hero's body shook, spasmed. His abdomen convulsed, and he coughed blood. "What…" he got out just one word before the coughing resumed.

The way she smiled just then, Katsuki couldn't help but picture a child holding a magnifying glass over an insect, gleefully watching the tiny creature die. "What did you do to him?" he strolled forward, caring less and less about any damn truce.

Mara shrugged apathetically. "I am not as kind as Sondok. He'll die slowly for the next few hours. If he's strong enough, he might stretch it out for over a day."

Bakugou gaped as Whaleface fell backward onto the ground. The gargantuan hero's body went limp, bleeding from deep within his mouth, perhaps from his lungs.

"I am not completely heartless, though." The demon moved toward her helpless prey. Her hand raised, poised to strike down at his prone form.

Bakugou knew a finishing move when he saw one. There was no time to think, no time to figure out what the right move was. Every instinct told him to blow her up, to bombard the smile from her face.

For once, Katsuki acted, but he did not follow his instincts. He defied them. He didn't fully comprehend what he was doing, only that he had to do this, this one insane act, gambling his life on a single move.

He stared forward, unflinching. Bakugou had planted himself firmly in the way of Mara's striking hand, the black energy coiled and writhed around her claw-like hand mere centimeters from his face. He spread his arms outward, using his entire body as a shield.

Her face contorted into something between amusement and rage. "What are you doing, Kacchan?"

Bakugou's lip curled into a sneer. She had worn his mother's face, struck down the hero guiding him, and now she called Bakugou by the one name no one had a right to ever use. No one but Deku would ever get away with that.

"You can't kill me unless I attack first, right?" he barked out, significantly less sure of his bet than he was projecting. "Something about a fucking debt you don't want to get stuck with. Or is it that you just don't want to kill your new pet?"

She regarded him with hungry fascination. "You risked your life to save his when he's going to die anyway. You know that, don't you?" she asked, more curious than angry. She smelled of amber and incense. So close to his, her face seemed thin, gaunt, and her eyes seemed just a bit too large and a bit too hungry.

Bakugou didn't flinch away when she rested her hand on his shoulder. Her fingers traced the grooves and valleys where his muscles met. He ignored those sensations and spoke clearly, staring right back at her. "We're all going to die. We each only get to live for so long…" he had a more eloquent thought in mind, but he didn't think she'd understand the sentiment.

Yet, somehow, the doe-eyed demon-woman caught on. "So, life, even the last fleeting moment of it, each ephemeral second is that precious to you? You, of all people? You, who helped bring us here to this point?"

Bakugou wanted to grit his teeth. He wanted to yell at her, to tell her where she could go fuck herself. Yet he knew that on some level, she was right. "It's too late for me to fix anything, but it's not too late for me to know that I fucked up."

"It's not too late, bro," said an unfamiliar voice, butting into the conversation. "It's never too late to work on your fuck-ups, not while you're still breathing."

The blonde shifted his gaze without moving his body. Across on the other side of the room, through a hole leading to a different apartment, was that fucker with the shitty red hair. He was about as tall as Bakugou and with just as much muscle to boast. His clothes were torn and burnt in places, while drenched in blood in others. It might have been a nice outfit once, but it was trash now. His skin seemed like a hard carapace, with cracks running up and down his right arm. He was drenched in blood.

Over the man's shoulder, he carried what looked like a large brass cannon, yet it was wrapped in bloody meat. The man had a stupid yet endearingly large shark tooth grin, one that looked too friendly for the amount of blood covering his body.

Behind him, a tall stacked blonde, beautiful and thick in all the right places, held what was undoubtedly a severed head. Her face was stained with tears and blood, as were her arms. What the fuck had happened here?

How long had they been there? Did the demon see them before and just not care? There were too many questions in Bakugou's mind, but there was only one pressing thought that cast all questions aside.

"Oh, shit," Bakugou realized that all they had seen or would see was a woman. They didn't know this was a demon.

"Get away! Run, you stupid shits!" he yelled out, fear gripping him in like a snake coiling through his insides. Bakugou held his position, firmly protecting Whaleface with his body, yet now there were even more people that needed to be protected. Fuck!

"Quiet!" the redhead hissed. The muscle headed guy's hair product must've affected his brain. "There's more of those things out there!"

Couldn't they see that the threat was right here?

Katsuki was about to mouth off a sharp reply so they'd finally get the picture. That's when claws ripped through another nearby wall. Roaring, a beaked monster forced its way into the room.

"What the fuck?!" Bakugou crouched into a defensive position, sparks gathering around his palms as he readied to blow the shit out this thing.

No one, not even Bakugou, counted on what an annoyed demoness would or could do. Her light steps sent her across the room towards the thrashing monster. She approached it boldly even as it fully emerged into the room.

"Lady, stop! You're going to…" but the redhead never got to finish what he was going to say.

It was quite a spectacle. A woman in a full traditional kimono versus a hulking monstrosity with an exposed brain and massive claws. It reached for her with clear murderous intent, yet she wove and dodged expertly.

The fight was over in a single strike.

The woman, frail and fragile as she appeared, lunged past the grasping claws and plunged her hand deep into the monster's chest. Muscle and bone tore apart like paper, as though dodging out of her way to avoid angering her. Then she withdrew, and the battle ended.

The monster flailed, gasped, and fell out of the wall and down onto the floor. It's beaked face gazed outward, uncomprehending of what had just happened.

That's not what the three heroic deputies were staring at, though.

The creature's heart, bloody and scarred, beat several times in Mara's outstretched hand. Each beat of the disembodied heart spewed forth blackish blood uselessly onto the floor. Dark coiling energy writhed from all the way back in her wrist to cover the severed organ. The energy swarmed in through loosely hanging blood vessels, torn and open and vulnerable.

Then the heart ignited with ghastly green fire. It quickly transmuted into smoke and ash before dissipating into nothing. The well-dressed women, not to be left soiled by her battle, removed a small napkin from the pocket in her sleeve. The demoness used it to wipe off the soot and blood from her hand. Her efforts to clean herself were surprisingly effective.

"Holy shit… holy shit!" the shitty haired deputy uttered, making sure to put himself squarely between the demoness and the shapely blonde behind him.

For his part, Bakugou was sweating and trying to breathe. How the fuck were they supposed to fight someone who could move like that, whose touch was poison, who could grab up their hearts and just fucking burn them like it was nothing?

The Heian period kimono seemed to repel blood as she walked forward, moving back towards Bakugou. She returned her hand to rest on his shoulder, giving his muscles an appreciative squeeze. "Now, get out of my way, child. The poison is painfully devouring his insides. Let me put him out of his misery."

"Poison? What the hell is going on?" the redhead asked.

"Shut up, shitty hair. I've got a handle on this. You're part of Kamui Woods' team, right? I'm with Gang Orca. This is my department." Bakugou barked back at the other man, even as he remained unflinchingly in Mara's path, never taking her eyes off of her.

A blood-covered mass of muscle moved to stand next to him. He'd never met this guy before, but somehow the guy was willing to risk his life right alongside Bakugou's without even understanding what was going on. Wordlessly, the tall blonde woman moved quickly to examine the fallen hero behind them.

"He's breathing… but…" the woman's voice trembled. "I think he's bleeding into his lungs."

Please stay alive, Whaleface, Bakugou prayed inside.

The smelly blood-covered man spoke up. "Look, I don't understand much of what's been happening, but I literally got back here from another fucking dimension. I've had to rip a monster apart with my bare hands, and I'm hungry as fuck. There are two more members of our team still out there, and we need to find them…"

Just then, a clamorous sound rang out, hollow and deep. All of them could tell that the gonging noise was from far away, yet it was loud enough that it drowned out all other sounds from their senses. Two more times the great bell cried out, wailing across the city. Each time the gong was heard, Mara's fingers dug deeper into Bakugou's shoulder, penetrating his skin with her nails as her strength broke through his flesh.

He didn't cry out. He didn't flinch. Bakugou Katsuki refused to move. No matter how much it fucking hurt, he didn't give her the satisfaction of knowing how much pain he was in.

"Our playtime is over, human," the demoness spoke up, the trailing echoes of the last bell still ringing in their ears. "I am called away to the Prince." Abruptly she let go of Katsuki's shoulder and turned, walking away toward the balcony.

The offhand mention of Deku stirred something, an idea, inside Bakugou. He acted on it before thinking it through.

"Bro… no, bro, don't!" the muscle-bound redhead spoke up, finally understanding the gravity of the situation. Dumbass, Bakugou thought.

"Shut up," he spat out to the side as he moved to intercept her. Disregarding his newest companions, the young blonde strode forward, boldly planting himself in the demoness' way.

Bakugou got straight to the point. "Mara," he addressed her directly. It only now occurred to Katsuki that this was the one person he had never assigned a nickname to. Maybe it because she was the first person that made him truly afraid. "Is there a cure? Can he be saved?"

Her smile was teasingly demure. "Of course, there is a cure," she said. "Why would I help, though?" she batted her eyelashes at him while her voice lilted thickly with curiosity.

Bakugou inhaled deeply. This was harder than he thought it would be. "I'm offering you a trade. You save him… and you get to keep me. You get to take me with you."

The demoness pursed her lips, narrowing them, the narrow strip of lipstick all but disappearing on her whitewashed face. "I have it on good authority that the Prince delved deep into the powers of the Silent Wind and that he cut away many of his emotional ties."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Bakugou asked before he could censor himself, his mouth outpacing his brain.

Her smile was not comforting. "It means the Prince no longer cares about you, which means I can't use you to manipulate him like I first thought I could, and even though you have proved amusing regardless…"

Mara paused, regarding him carefully, but it was disconcerting. Her eyes wandered over him, appraising him. It looked like she was deciding whether to buy a draft horse or not. Bakugou practically expected her to open his mouth and count his teeth.

The demoness leaned in close to him, closer than he was comfortable with. She dripped the words with as much venom as her touch threatened to pour into him. "You have dramatically overestimated your worth. Now, be a good boy and make your hero comfortable while he dies."

She shoved Bakugo hard onto the ground before stamping her foot down onto his neck. Her foot was tiny, a hoof-like extension that applied massive amounts of pressure onto a minuscule part of his neck. His skin bled from the abrasive force she weighed down onto him.

"Bro!" the redhead yelled as he stepped forward, his skin hardening into layers, a tough carapace atop another and another.

"Don't!" Katsuki choked out the word even as move pressure was applied to his throat. His eyes bulged as he struggled to breathe. "She won't kill me…" he said, glaring up at her defiantly.

The demon woman smirked at their little exchange. The bravery and camaraderie on display amused her. "Never, and I mean never, try to barter with me ever again. The next time we meet, there will be no truce, no magic, nothing that will save you from me. And mark these words, child. I will make you regret taunting me from behind the safety of this truce."

With that, she lifted her foot from his neck and delivered a hard kick into his chest. Katsuki watched her go, never taking his eyes from her even as he coughed blood. She vanished into a wisp of sand on the breeze, walking out onto the balcony as she dissipated.

He'd find a way to kill that bitch, he swore it to himself. There were, however, far more important things to attend to now. He tried crawling over to Whaleface, but it was a struggle.

A hand reached down into his view. "Bro… that was manly as fuck."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Katsuki rasped the words out, his throat begging him not to speak.

Leaning on his newfound companion, Shitty Hair, Bakugou made his way over to Whaleface. The man was awake, blinking up at him, but clearly in pain and unable to talk.

"I'm going to have to borrow these, sir," the young blonde took the earpiece and the accompanying wrist-watch. The things were designed for Whaleface's massive head and arms and were ungainly on Katsuki's smaller frame. Still, he made it work.

"This is…" he coughed, sputtering up a smatter of blood from his throat. "This is Bakugou Katsuki, deputy to Gang Orca," he spoke into the comms, glad he got the name right on the first try. "He's down and needs medical evacuation. Is anyone nearby?"

"No, son, we don't have anyone else in that area…" a voice from the Support Corps spoke to him somberly.

Desperate, Bakugou looked down at the wrist-watch, switching on the app that tracked the positions of other heroes. "Uh, Support? My satellite tracker says there's another hero in the vicinity. What about them?"

"Negative, son, that's Ingenium's signal. We don't know who has his equipment, but they can't be relied on…" that was about when Bakugou stopped listening.

"Shitty Hair, you're with me. Curves, you stay with Whaleface and keep him comfortable. Find him some water or something if you can." He walked out onto the balcony where the demon Mara had just left from.

"Bro? What? Do you have a plan?" Shitty Hair asked.

"Somewhere just west of us is either a friend or an enemy, maybe both. We have to investigate because if we don't then that means we're giving up on Whaleface, and I'm not giving up yet," he said. Bakugou wouldn't give up. Wiping some stray sweat from his eyes, he reminded himself that he had a promise to keep.

Even if Deku never knew that Bakugou had made the promise, and never thanked him, he'd keep his word. Bakugou Katsuki would become a better hero than he had been a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter of the third and final sub-arc is now released! We're accelerating towards the climax! I can't wait!
> 
> The time is upon us. Loose plot threads are getting tied back together!
> 
> Thank you to all of you who have show so much love and support for me and my story. Your follows, favorites, reviews, kudos, bookmarks, and comments are all appreciated. At 580 favorites, 726 followers, and 264 reviews on Fanfiction dot net, as well as 264 Kudos, 69 Bookmarks, and 8382 Hits, and 267 Comments (including my replies) on AO3, the outpouring of love has been deeply felt and appreciated. Once again, I want everyone to know that I do reply to every single review and comment. I reply directly to threads on AO3 and reply en-masse to reviews in the review section itself about three days after posting a chapter on FF.
> 
> Now I will proceed on to write another viewing chapter or two for The Reflection in the Viridescent Mirror, where canon characters get to see the craziness of My Green Sun Prince Academia. After that, I will write out chapter Twenty-Five: Body-Temple Worship. WARNING: This upcoming chapter will contain lewd acts of a sexual nature with far more graphic language than has been used in prior chapters!


	25. Tragic Love Amusement

Ochako was comfortable on Izuku's lap, covering his face with kisses. His lips were her home. His chin and cheeks were an incredible wilderness for her to explore. She grazed along his jawline, daring to bite him teasingly as though to secure herself before her mouth went spelunking down his neck.

Izuku smiled as he obliged her, craning his neck, exposing more of himself to Ochako's intimate examination. The way he laughed when her lips grazed the bulging crown of his throat caused her to be more daring. She lashed the crown of his throat, that unmistakably male feature, with her tongue as she ascended higher, coating a long gash of his neck and jaw with her scent.

Izuku growled, low and rumbling like a tiger. It was the only warning signal that Ochako would get. She was no longer in the lead.

Ochako let out a helpless squeak when Izuku's hands moved down her back to grip onto her skirt-covered ass. She shuddered when she remembered just how powerful his arms were, how he had decimated demons in combat less than a day ago. He was remarkably restrained, gently lifting her skirt out of the way before gripping onto her. With nothing more than her panties and her uniform's stockings between them, his hands held her now for their mutual pleasure. He wasn't going to carry her away to some distant mountain, but an entirely different kind of destination.

A small part of Ochako wanted Izuku to rip those flimsy garments apart, to skip these coy games and get to the one thing they both wanted. She knew that he could. Despite that, her affection for him grew just as much from admiring his self-control as his prowess.

Izuku restrained himself, but he was also playful. He gave one cheek an appreciative slap before gripping it firmly, as though to soothe it, his way of apologizing for the surprise.

"Oh!" she cried out. Suddenly she was sitting up just a bit higher as Izuku's grip maneuvered her so that she was a touch taller than he was, seated on his hands. Izuku didn't let her weight transfer onto her knees, protecting them from the hardwood of the bench, a feat that Ochako knew he could keep up practically forever. It made her feel treasured, as though he would never let her feet touch the ground ever again.

It was also Izuku's turn to explore Ochako.

His lifting embrace provided his mouth free access to her neck. Izuku's kisses weren't the shy investigations Ochako had partaken earlier. He moved boldly, pressing his lips hard into her skin as though to feed on her. He sucked gently between hard presses with his lips, trailing slowly yet certainly as he descended from her jaw to the base of Ochako's neck.

Ochako expected Izuku to rush, to continue downward and skip the skin of her chest before allowing his lips to press onto her breasts. Once there, he would no doubt play with her exposed skin before unveiling even more so that he could feast on her.

Ochako had no understanding of how many years of lovemaking the Exaltation had injected into Izuku's mind. He was a far more experienced lover than was possible for a man his age. He felt no need to rush, despite the urgency of their situation or their shared needs.

Izuku lingered at the base of her neck. He was free there to play with Ochako as he wished.

Ochako shivered, sharply taking in air as Izuku's teeth grazed the sensitive skin that connected her neck to her collar. His fangs frightened and excited her, and as Izuku alternated between sucking gently on her neck, to hard kisses, and then on to the barest scrapes of razor-sharp teeth, Ochako moaned helplessly.

Looking down at him, Ochako admired the way his shirtless torso displayed so much power and potency. His glowing skin seemed far more robust now, his body more real to the touch than ever before. She allowed her eyes to wander from his broad shoulders down to the grooves that flanked his abdominal muscles, the lines that traced their way to somewhere below her thighs, which blocked her view. The idea that so much power was resting between her legs made parts of Ochako throb in ways she'd never felt before. Somewhere down there, below her thighs and past his waistline, was her prize. The grooves and valleys of his muscles lead to an epicenter she had yet to see. That was where her imagination had to fill in the blanks. Ochako didn't want to imagine much longer.

She leaned her weight just enough to rest on the muscles between Izuku's neck and shoulders, surrendering her neck to his advances as he moved to devour her. Ochako whimpered, admitting that she wanted Izuku to consume her.

Izuku's hands kneaded into her cheeks, his strength straining the full stockings that stood in his way, threatening to destroy them as an annoyance, a barrier to be removed. His mouth played at her neck like Ochako was a musical instrument in his expert care, as though he was using her to elicit a song of sweet pleasurable exclamations.

Ochako allowed her fingers to grip harder into Izuku's thick mane, grounding herself in him even as he used parts of her body that she had no idea could contain such bliss. Leaning into him didn't allow his exploration of her neck to continue, but she felt his smile against the skin of her collar. His laugh shook her, the vibrations moving through her collar to her core.

Ochako couldn't help it. The dam of her emotions broke. She'd never cried such happy tears before, had never smiled so brightly while her face was so wet with tears. Leaning onto Izuku as her bedrock, she kissed the top of his head. His hair didn't smell like anything, another reminder of his impermanence. He seemed so stable, so full of life and light, but she knew in bittersweet happiness that this joy would not last forever.

Her eyes caught on the dancing lights of the Chrysalis. Flashes of emerald within the gargantuan shell gave triumphant warnings of the Prince growing and building himself within. The skeleton was complete, Ochako observed. Slowly, muscle and connective tissue cemented themselves to his bones.

She bit down onto her lower lip as she pressed her butt against Izuku's hands. As fun as it was to feel his fingers sink into her, she kept pushing until Izuku got the hint and let her settle back down lower onto his lap. The two stared into each other's eyes, and Ochako choked, knowing that their fun couldn't last much longer.

Izuku didn't allow her a moment of solace-free despair. He quickly removed his hands from underneath her, embracing her lower back with one as he let the other trace up to her face. His thumb brushed away her tears as she leaned her cheek into his palm.

"I'm so scared, Izuku," she confessed. "I've never felt anything so frightening in my life," she said as her lips trembled.

"It's alright, Ochako. I'm here. I have you," Izuku said, reminding her that she was safe in his arms. The thought spilled even more emotion from her eyes.

Ochako shook her head from side to side; the motion just slight enough to convey her intent but not enough to dislodge her cheek from his palm. "Not that, I mean, yes, this is all scary. It's you, Izuku. I've never felt like this about anyone. I never thought I'd fall in love so hard or so fast, and I'm scared out of my mind, and I don't want this to ever stop, and I, and I," she breathed rapidly, taking quick, shallow breaths, unable to complete her thoughts much less speak them aloud.

He smiled at her, the kind of smile that told her how preciously adorable she was in his eyes. "Hush," Izuku's voice was low, calm, and soothing. "You're not facing these feelings alone, Ochako. I have you," he said.

I have you.

Those three simple words meant so much to Ochako, now with new layers for her to unlock. Izuku wasn't just protecting her from terrifying threats. He was there with her. Izuku helped anchor down her emotions, stopping her from floating away into orbit, carried by the uncertain storm of her feelings.

Izuku's grip around her lower back shifted. His eyes burned with an intensity that warned her heart to stop beating, her lungs to stop breathing, or else the predator would catch and eat her. "Ochako," he warned.

Ochako nodded, rubbing her cheek into his palm again. She wished she could snuggle into him forever. "They're coming, aren't they?"

Izuku nodded somberly, "It's time. Don't worry. I have you," he said, offering himself to her as the most magnificent shield she could ask for, and he did it with such casual comfort that he might as well have offered her a blanket. "I'll guide you every step of the way. You won't be alone."

Ochako nodded, preparing for what came next. She didn't have to think back far to understand the gravity of what they were about to do, or what she was secretly planning to do.

{}

Earlier, securing her in his embrace as they hid their conversation from the comm system in her ear, Izuku had tried his best to present Ochako with a menu of options for when the demons arrived. No matter what, he was asking her to step far outside of her comfort zone.

"No matter what other option you pick, there is one requirement you must fulfill," he said, his voice iron hard with determination despite how low he whispered into her ear.

Ochako nodded, knowing not to say anything in reply to him. The comm system would pick up even the slightest vocalization she made, keyed to sound as it traveled across the bones in her skull and jaw.

"This will sound strange, but you'll have to pray to me," he said.

Ochako flinched. It was the strangest request he could have made. She'd have understood it if he had asked some other favor, even something perversely sexual, but this was just odd. It went against everything she believed in as well. Praying to a living person right in front of her? What on Earth was he even thinking?

"Listen carefully," he whispered. Ochako bit her lip when his lips grazed along her ear. Izuku's breath moved through the tunnel provided by her haircut and caressed the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.

"To demons, humans have only one true purpose, to fuel demonic powers with offerings of prayer," his voice was low, like the growl of a wolf close to its prey. The sound made Ochako feel uncertain, not sure if she was protected and safe, or if she was in danger. Which of the two did she want?

Ochako allowed her hands to stray up and down his back as they embraced. His muscles were amazing to feel under her fingertips. His arms around her made her feel safe, as well as trusting, trapped, and aroused. Her emotions were all over the place.

"To demons, even a demonic thing like me, prayer is food. Your submission is a form of sustenance and power," Izuku's voice layered itself with both desire and disgust. It was as though he was ashamed of what he wanted from her. "So please, humor me on this one request," he asked, dangerously close to begging, the way someone might beg someone away from a cliff.

After considering it for a moment, Ochako nodded firmly. She could set her convictions aside if it meant Izuku would have an easier time keeping her safe.

Izuku let out a satisfied rumble, something deeper and louder than a mere hum, yet less than a growl. It was the subdued reverberation of a resting predator, content and sated, yet still dangerous. "Now, let's discuss some options," he said.

Ochako breathed deeply, her chest rising and falling within the confines of her uniform. Even after loosening the bodice-like tightness earlier, she still felt compacted by the garment, though it did make her breasts appear much more abundant.

Ochako might have inhaled even more air into her lungs than she needed, puffing her chest out to attract Izuku's eyes. Maybe. Possibly.

Alright, she admitted to herself, she did exactly that.

The way Izuku's lips grazed down her ear into her neck told her that he was looking down into the valley between her breasts. Ochako couldn't help but smile mischievously at the thought. Even here at the end of the world, she could distract him. Dirty and disheveled as she felt, she still made Midoriya Izuku's head turn to snatch up every glance of her that he could capture.

Ochako whimpered, feeling his breath down her neck as it careened down to the exposed skin atop her breasts. She felt goosebumps rise from her skin despite how hot Izuku's breath was. The fabric of her bra suddenly felt rough as her nipples hardened with anticipation for the mouth that was breathing down her neck. She longed for his teeth, wanting to feel them pressed against her skin.

"As much as I want to claim you, I don't want to let them see you," he said, reminding her of the fact that they'd have an unwelcome audience soon. "So, whatever we decide to do, your clothes need to stay on."

Ochako couldn't help but picture it. She'd rest on his lap, maybe facing him so that the demons would be behind her. Her panties would either be pulled to the side or conveniently gone. Her hips would rock back and forth as she massaged his dick with the walls of her… of her pussy, she finally settled on the word. Oh god, could she do this?

She pictured his face buried between her breasts, no, her tits. His penis, no, his dick would rise between her thighs, solid and powerful, as she rocked against it. His teeth would lash against the skin of her tits as the head of his… of his dick pressed deep into the farthest reaches of her pussy, up against…

"Is that what you want, Ochako, to have me inside of you when the enemy is here? To be enslaved to me? To my cock?" he asked, and she bit back a moan at the forbidden words when he continued. "Do you want me to fuck you in front of such an audience?"

Ochako thought long and hard. Captured, she had no way out of her thoughts. She wanted Izuku badly, desired him more than anything or anyone she had ever wanted or needed in her life. Even if it meant being his property, the idea of his power overwhelming her was thoroughly enticing. However, the thought of being that vulnerable rattled her. Clothed or not, the idea of being intimate in front of the demons appalled her. Being exposed to the monsters that were attacking the city, the image alone shook a terrible part of her core.

She held back, not wanting her first time with a man to be like that, yet also not wanting to confess to Izuku that this would be her first time. Frozen, she wasn't sure what to say or do as her heart hammered through her ears.

"Or," Izuku's voice rumbled low and gentle in her ear, offering her protective comfort against the fantasy that frightened her, rescuing her from her imagination. "Or we could wait for that. There are other things we could do to show that I own you, that you're mine. We can wait for another time to make love, somewhere no one will see us, and we can be as free and as happy as we want."

Ochako bit into her lip as she turned to look Izuku in the eye. It was mind-numbingly frightening how badly she wanted him. She had to admit that she barely knew him, but that didn't stop her heart from thundering when her eyes met his, or her throbbing need when she watched his muscles ripple under his shirt. He was perfect, too perfect; she had to remind herself.

No force on Earth could still the tremulous fears and anxieties of her soul like Izuku could, though, with a simple "I have you," on his lips and a smile on his face. No amount of lust could explain that away.

"Or," she whispered back to him before nodding. That was all she needed to say. Izuku nodded, understanding exactly what she wanted to say but couldn't.

Nothing made Ochako feel more relieved than that nod of understanding, though she'd probably relive the fantasy of what they almost agreed to do over and over again in her head. She'd go over every variation, from facing him as she gently rose and fell on him, to his turning her to face the enemy as he savagely thrust upward into her body, using her as a doll meant for his pleasure.

Ochako moaned as she pictured it. She'd face outward, away from him, confronting the frightening prospect of the enemy seeing her eyes as she wantonly surrendered to the pleasure Izuku forced into her. His legs would separate, planting his feet firmly on the ground as he gripped onto her hips, holding her body still even as her legs were pried apart by his own. His cock would drive upward, fucking her hard even as her skirt threatened to ride up. She'd be lost, caught between the mind-numbing pleasure inside her pussy and the fear brought by her exhibition as the demons…

"Ochako, are you listening to me?" Izuku asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Ochako squeaked in embarrassment. She'd become so wrapped up in her fantasy that she had missed everything Izuku had just said. She saw his smirk out of the corner of her eye. Heat rose from within her to burn her cheeks. Izuku would make her pay for her inattention later.

Ochako looked forward to it.

"As I was saying, you could also serve me with your mouth, Ochako," his smile against Ochako's ear made her hot. There was almost no hesitation this time. She wanted to do that. Part of her hated the fact that she immediately pictured what it would be like to worship his body with her mouth. She'd kiss her way down his exposed torso. In her fantasy, he was wearing a belt and loose-fitting jeans. No underwear, not in the fictional scene she built for herself.

Ochako would use her teeth to pull on his belt, undoing it with dexterous skill that, in reality, she didn't possess, but maybe she'd learn to do that someday. With practice on Izuku, she'd be an eager student. The jeans in her fantasy had a loose row of buttons, which would pop out of place one by one, slowly, as her teeth pulled the front of his pants open. She'd reach in and find his cock, already hardening in anticipation for her. The image in her mind made her lick her lips. Once she angled Izuku's cock, and of course, it would be huge, and thick, and throbbing. Ochako would start at the base, laying soft kisses there as she ascended to the tip…

"Ochako?" Izuku asked, his smile audible in his voice. "Have I lost you somewhere?"

Flushed with excitement and embarrassment, Ochako realized that she had utterly zoned out everything Izuku had been saying to her while she was busy sexually fantasizing about him. Twice. In just one conversation, she had gotten so lost in her imagination that she had probably missed something vital. Again.

His laughter was like distant thunder, a waterfall of joy that crushed her self-recrimination. "Never change, Ochako. Promise me that."

His laugher died down to a chuckle as his lips grazed across her cheek. Ochako turned to face him, and the two kissed, neither one sure who had started it and both certain that they never wanted these moments together to end.

Izuku leaned his forehead down to press it against hers. Their lips parted, but their connection never wavered. "I've been teasing you, Ochako. I would never make you do anything like that. Not with an audience, at least."

Ochako gasped with shock at how well he had toyed her into anticipation. "You jerk!" she laughed as she struck out against his shoulder, all thoughts of keeping quiet for the comm systems gone in an instant. She might as well have tried hitting a mountain, though, since his muscles were too hard. "Asshole!" she laughed again when it felt like his shoulder hit her hand back.

Kissing while laughing never works particularly well for either activity, but at that moment neither of them minded. Eventually, though, kissing won the battle against humor. Desire overcame mirth, adding the joy from their laughter to the strength of their bond together. "So, tell me," Ochako whispered, her awareness restored that the Support Corps was listening through the comms. She dared not turn it off, though, for fear of missing something important getting radioed back to her.

The implied questions hung there between them. What did Izuku want Ochako to do? What would he ask permission for before performing some outrage against her for their audience?

"There are two things we can do to make them believe you're my slave. The first is simple enough. I can collar you, chain you to me," he said, using simple enough terms, but the thought sent a shiver from the top of her spine down to the throbbing epicenter between her legs. The idea of being chained to Izuku caused Ochako to pulse and moisten uncomfortably. She had to move her hips just to make the sensation more tolerable.

Ochako didn't nod, but she didn't shake her head to spurn the idea, either. This time, she decided that she had to listen to every word. There was no time for fantasies, not now. Maybe later, though.

"The other idea is a bit more extreme," Izuku warned. "I could brand you." He didn't sugarcoat the language. Ochako, meanwhile, recoiled at the thought. The practical portions of her mind shouted down the parts of her that craved submission to Izuku, because, well, pain. So much pain. Being chained to him, serving him, even debasing herself by servicing him with her mouth, all of those ideas had appeal. There were pros to weigh against the cons. Pain, though?

Ochako shook her head vigorously. No, this would not happen. Ever.

"Then we're settling on the chain?" he asked.

Ochako thought about it. She was reluctant, but she acquiesced with a hard-defined nod.

"You're sure?" Izuku asked.

Again, she nodded, cementing the deal. She'd allow Izuku to collar and chain her. Oh fuck, she realized she was going to let him do this to her. She barely knew him for more than two days, and they were going far past vanilla and into a cinnamon challenge. Didn't dating and sex come before this kind of stuff? Hell, Ochako thought, isn't it rare for this kind of thing to ever come up?

"Rest now," Izuku said. "This is going to be hard. I'll alert you before they get here. You'll need your strength."

He might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water onto Ochako. How dare he wind her up with arousal, seducing her ears before trying to make her cool down?

In a layer of her mind, tucked away from Izuku's view, Ochako immediately began plotting her revenge. Well, it was sort of like revenge. Izuku had said that he'd never force her to do anything sexual in front of their upcoming audience.

That didn't mean he'd stop her if she decided that she wanted to do something. Ochako merely had to determine how much she wanted this and how bold she could be. For Ochako, the decision was easier when she considered everything that was at stake. If Izuku needed a slave to perform in front of a demonic army, some trophy to display his power and authority, then he'd damned well have one.

It was all an act, of course. The plot forming in the most secret recesses of Ochako's mind was entirely for her safety and the good of all humanity. It had nothing to do with getting Izuku back for teasing her or the fact that she lusted for every centimeter of his body. At all.

{}

"So, how do I do this? Do I clap to get your attention, first?" Ochako joked. It was often standard to clap at a Shinto shrine before offering a prayer to the gods. She had done it plenty of times, usually on major holidays, though most other days she didn't even think about it.

Izuku's smile was endearing, especially when he tried to suppress it and act serious. "It's nothing so complicated. I'm fed power, small doses, by any prayer someone directs to me. All you have to do is utter a prayer in my name, and…"

Ochako snorted from laughing so suddenly. She tried to talk, but instead, just more laughter came out. It erupted from deep inside of her, taking her over. Joy came cracking through all of the tension that had built up inside of her since this all started. The emotional release didn't solve her problems, but it certainly helped.

Izuku couldn't help but chuckle at how she had lost it but was still confused. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Utter… oh god," Ochako tried to breathe, and somehow managed to stop laughing just enough to catch her breath. "No one says shit like 'utter a prayer in my name,' it's just so formal and outdated. Not even the priests talk like that. You're trying so hard to make it sound reasonable, but it was so… wow…" she resumed chuckling, far more subdued with it now even though her body demanded that she continue laughing.

"I guess I do sound old fashioned, don't I?" Izuku laughed a bit at his antics.

Ochako nodded enthusiastically, her smile large enough that it dominated her face, partly hiding her eyes behind domes of happiness that rose from her cheeks. "Izu… you sound like a dork! 'Utter a prayer in my name, that I may feed power from your devotion!' or some crap. Seriously, even if it's true, it's just so dorky that you said it like that!"

Izuku laughed at her stiff imitation of him. The impression was loud, authoritative, and thoroughly cartoonish. "Oh," he caught his breath, "I can't be that bad, can I?"

Ochako nodded. "It's worse because you meant it! You said it with a straight face!"

Izuku wasn't going to let her get away with this, though. With mischief in his eyes, he pulled her in close. "Say it again."

Ochako couldn't contain her happiness. She was sure that joy was bleeding out of her eyes. "You're a dork?"

He smiled and shook his head at her. "No, the part right before that."

Ochako gasped, suddenly realizing what she had just done. "Izu?"

Izuku nodded. Ochako could see so much affection in his eyes that she wanted to melt. "Izu," she repeated it. "You're not upset about the dork part, right?"

He kissed her softly. "If it means I get to hear you laugh like that, I won't ever mind anything. I'd trade away anything just to hear you laugh, every single day, just like that for the rest of my life. Hearing you call me Izu, that was…"

Izuku never got to finish his sentence. Ochako's lips latched onto his. She clung onto Izuku, her Izu, with tumultuous emotions roiling inside of her. The joy of their time together. The fear. The adrenaline. Ochako lost control of herself as her fingers gripped onto Izuku, the warm feel of his skin and the tension of hard muscle returning the pressure of her touch.

Izuku's hand gripped hard onto Ochako's ass cheek. Pulling him down towards her and forcing his groin into contact with hers. Iron hard heat pressed against soft skin, forcing it to give way. Ochako moaned into Izuku's lips, lost in the sensation before she realized her mistake.

After calling him a dork for using the wrong words, she had accidentally made him weightless. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" she spat out the words quickly as she released her Quirk.

His smile told Ochako everything she needed to know. Izuku laughed as his feet re-settled into the earth beneath them. "No problem, Ochako," he said before kissing her forehead. "None at all."

Ochako leaned her forehead down onto his chest. It felt solid, like a wall of stone, yet it was comfortable and warm there. "I guess I'm a dork too."

Izuku's hand moved to stroke her hair, a motion he interrupted only to offer a soft pat on the back of her head. "You're probably a nerd just like I am, too, what with the cosplay," he said, gesturing with his free hand to her maid outfit, which had seen better days.

Ochako's head shot up like she was woken up in a classroom that was laughing at her slumber-noises, not like she'd ever done that before. Nope. She'd deny that to her final days. "This is my work uniform!" she objected, her face flush with embarrassment.

"Oh," Izuku replied awkwardly. "I guess that means we're both dorks, and I'm a nerd?"

Ochako chuckled before standing on her toes and offering Izuku another kiss. "You have no idea how happy that makes me, Izuku."

He moved from gesturing at her costume to scratching the back of his head. "Happy? That I'm a nerd?"

Ochako nodded. Her smile was big enough to light up the whole world, to banish the emerald twilight forever, or at least it seemed that way to Izuku. "Up until now, you've been perfect. Too perfect. I'm happy to find even a few flaws here and there. It makes you…"

Izuku shrugged as Ochako struggled to find the right word. "Relatable?" he offered.

Ochako shook her head. "Beautiful. It makes you who you truly are, not what anyone or anything else has made you be, and I think that's beautiful." A fresh tear fell from her eye as she gazed lovingly up into his face.

Izuku craned his neck down so that he could kiss that stray tear from Ochako's face. "You're beautiful, Ochako, in all the ways you just described. It's like… Wabi-sabi."

Ochako laughed before saying, "Nerd!" but then her breath caught in her throat when Izuku's smile caused his cheeks to dimple. She hadn't noticed before. "Okay, so what's that? Wabi-sabi is… I'm supposed to remember this from school, aren't I?"

Izuku loomed over her before embracing her. His arms wrapped gently around her, surrounding her in protective strength and light. "It just means that things can be beautiful because they're imperfect, or impermanent, or incomplete… like people, who are always all three. I mean, look at me, falling for someone clumsy, but brave, embarrassed, but beautiful, and impatient, but considerate."

If not for Izuku's arms around her, containing her, Ochako felt like she would burst into a million pieces. "You… you're falling for me, too?" she couldn't dare to look up into his eyes as she asked.

Izuku took hold of Ochako's shoulders and gently held her, placing just enough distance between them that she could see his stern gaze. It unnerved her, stirring up butterflies of uncertainty in her stomach. "Yes, Ochako. It's been hard. I've been trying this whole time to not fall for you. I don't want them to use you as a weakness to exploit, targeted like some weapon to turn against me. You deserve better than that…"

Izuku's words were not the confession she had expected or hoped for, but they made sense. Ochako allowed her fingers to wander up to his jawline before placing them on his lips, her way of telling him to be quiet, to let her speak. "I'm willing to let you put a chain around my neck, Izuku, and to parade me as your slave in front of demons. If you don't think I'm ready for whatever danger a life with you could bring me, you're wrong. I'll do it all, whatever is needed, for you. For us. I'll even pray to you, even if I think that's fucked up, like even more fucked up than the chain and slavery part. Just promise me something."

She moved her fingers away from his lips as she slipped them teasingly back across his face, barely touching him with her fingertips. His eyes burned into her heart. Looking into his eyes was like staring down all his fears. Those eyes told her everything. The demons could kill her, or even both of them, or worse. Ochako didn't care, though. She'd face whatever hell the future brought them, as long as she could face it with Izuku at her side.

He nodded, though still uncertain. "Anything, Ochako. You already know me better than anyone else. You know I'll do anything to protect you…"

She shook her head at him. She'd ask him later what he meant about knowing him better than anyone, but they couldn't waste the urgency of this moment on her curiosity. The enemy was coming. They'd be here soon. "I'll pray to you and let you chain me… in other words, I'm selling myself to you. I want one thing. This is my price tag: I need you to love me. Completely. As much as I love you. I need this, Izuku. Please."

It was a lot to ask any man, she realized. "Meet me and then love me within two days of meeting me," was, objectively, insane. However, Izuku was also asking Ochako for more than she ever thought anyone would. These were requests she never thought anyone would make, not even her future husband or the children they'd have. Her terms, though dear, were not negotiable.

Ochako expected a long pause. Her demand would give any man discomfort, given how every man she had ever heard of feared commitment. Izuku surprised her when his grip on her tightened with a sense of urgent possessiveness. "Alright, Ochako. If that's what you need, it's what you'll have."

There was a subtle shift in his eyes. The fires within still burned, but they softened as though repurposed from a forge to a gentle hearth fire just for Ochako's warmth. Could it be that easy? Just like that, and Izuku would love her? "I need to hear you say it, Izuku."

His smile placed her on a precipice of hope. Then his words, oh his words. "I love you, Ochako."

Ochako's spirit lit with fire from stars cascading across the night sky. Shooting out and down to the Earth, brilliant fragments of the heavens impacted precisely into her heart. Forbidden wellsprings uncovered themselves as the shower of skyfire dug deep into Ochako's soul. "I love you too, Izuku! Oh god, I love you so much!"

She cried into his chest as he embraced her. That was how, under a twilight emerald aurora, on a mountain besieged by demons at the end of the world, Uraraka Ochako found love in the arms of the most wonderful man in the world. It no longer mattered what came next. All that mattered, at that moment, was that Izuku loved her.

Their happiness was infinite, enduring, and unrelenting. They knew trials were coming their way, but they would face them together. Ochako knew that nothing, no matter how terrible or cruel, would take this love away from her. "I'm ready," she whispered while snuggling her face into his chest, enjoying that he still hadn't put a shirt back on.

"Do I have to kneel or something?" she asked, squeezing her eyes shut while keeping her face buried into him. She wanted to enjoy this sensation as long as possible.

Izuku's exhaled hum of amusement was the suppressed beginning of laughter, a sound she wished he was freer to release. Ochako could feel tension increase in his muscles while her arms tried to hold onto him. If she could absorb his tension, she could. Heat rose in her cheeks when she remembered that taking in and releasing some of his stress was explicitly part of her plan.

"You're perfect just like this," he said before kissing the top of her head. "Just keep your eyes closed and think hard about what you want to say to me, not out loud, but to my soul, okay?"

It was far more comfortable than Ochako thought it would be. At first, she struggled, trying to think of some proper thing to say in a prayer, like please give us this or honor me with that, but then she knew precisely what her heart wanted. Ochako wanted, more than anything, to say thank you.

Thank you, Izuku, for saving my father. Thank you, Izuku, for taking me on this journey, and for loving me, and for robbing a vending machine just to feed me. Thank you for laughing with me and carrying me. Thank you for protecting me, for saving my life from that ape that was going to crush me. Thank you for telling me every "I have you" and for all of the meaning you've put into those words for me. Thank you for fighting so hard to save all of us. Thank you, Izuku. I love you. And, um, amen? Namu Izuku?

Once more, he kissed the top of her head. "That was beautiful, Ochako. Thank you."

If Ochako thought that her cheeks couldn't increase in temperature anymore, she was wrong. Her entire face felt like a furnace. "Oh god, you heard all of that, didn't you? Every single word?"

Instinctively Ochako caught her face into her hands, hoping to hide from Izuku's sight at how embarrassed she was. It felt like her heart was leaping into her throat as he grabbed hold of her, anchoring her tightly.

It was only then that Ochako realized that she was weightless within his embrace. Before she could float further away into the sea of her embarrassment, Izuku bent himself low, nuzzling his face past her hands. Ochako couldn't help it. She giggled when he rubbed his nose against hers, and the two shared a kiss that calmed her nerves. Just as quickly as she had become weightless and embarrassed, she was grounded in Izuku's confident serenity.

The moment didn't last.

Ochako heard the demons before turning her face to look out from beyond Izuku's corona. There were large packs of the monstrous creatures charging up the mountainside. Each contained at least a dozen of the giant apes. Beyond that, she could make out a massive swarm of the flying wasps that had terrorized the neighborhood she called home. A mass of swelling darkness pooled behind these two formations, dripping, oozing forward in silence.

Shivers ran up and down her spine as her heart shivered like a frightened rabbit. Ochako's breath caught in her lungs, feeling like she had winter bottled up inside of her.

The great apes roared triumphantly, announcing their arrival. The insect swarm emitted a constant hum, one that grew louder like approaching thunder. The continuous droning noise dug into Ochako's skull. Demons. All she could comprehend at that moment was that demons were coming here. Lots of them. The kind that had held her mother, but not her mother, captive before her eyes. The kind that had imitated her mother. The kind that had reached for her and grabbed her, threatening to crush her in giant paw-hands. The kind…

Izuku gently turned her face to look up only at him. "Breathe," he commanded, and Ochako instinctively obeyed, calming herself as she gazed up into his firelit eyes.

Izuku's hands were warm as he moved them to caress her neck. If it were any other man, this movement would have unnerved her. Ochako understood on a deep level that letting someone wrap their hands around your neck was a vulnerable position, but at this strange moment, with demons charging towards them, Izuku's hands made her feel safe.

Ochako could feel the weight of the collar as it formed around her neck, starting as nothing more than Izuku's breath until the mass of it became obvious. The metallic band was warm like Izuku. In some ways, it felt energetic, almost alive. Izuku bent to place a brief kiss against her neck. From that spot, links of a newly formed chain swarmed into existence, and Ochako watched in fascination as the swirling sands fastened to each other with bursts of emerald light.

Before Izuku could tell her what to do, Ochako took hold of one of Izuku's arms. Her hands and wrists seemed so tiny and delicate when she compared them to the mass of muscle she wrapped her fingers around. Bringing his hand up to her face, she moved her head to the side and placed soft kisses on the underside of his wrist, on a patch of exposed skin just beyond where his armbrace ended.

Izuku held her face, caressing her, calming her. As the chain linked to a new band on his wrist, one that seamlessly integrated itself under his bracer, Izuku pressed his forehead to Ochako's. "It will be okay, Ochako. I'm here with you. I have you. I love you."

I have you, he said. Ochako repeated it in her head like a mantra, even as she tried to wrap her mind around the idea that he now accompanied those words with new ones: I love you. Ochako nodded, her head rubbing up against his. Her heart felt like it would burst, filling with love while caught in a vice of fear. She had everything she had asked for or wanted. Everything she was thankful for was within reach. That fear kept a tight grip on her swelling heart, though. Would this be enough? Would Izuku's acting alone be enough to keep up the charade, to fool the demons?

No. It wouldn't. Ochako considered her options, and the plan that had germinated in her mind earlier sprang forward, growing with new life in her thoughts.

Izuku was suddenly tense. She knew, at that moment, that the demons were too close for them to communicate safely. Ochako regretted that she hadn't immediately replied to him that she loved him, even though she had said it before.

Izuku moved swiftly, shifting her position like she was a weightless plaything. That thought tucked itself into dangerous corners of her mind, ones that she promised herself she'd explore later. In no time at all, Ochako was kneeling next to Izuku, her knees resting on soft earth not far from the concrete base that secured the bench where he had seated himself. The chain visibly extended between them, linking her neck to his wrist, even as he toyed absentmindedly with several links between his fingers.

An open vest of shadow wrapped around his torso, leaving his arms and tight midsection exposed but affording him an air of languid authority, a king resting on his throne as his subjects approached. Izuku's posture and demeanor were relaxed, unimpressed, and self-important. A gleam of cruelty was evident in his eyes, eyes that almost asked: why did it take you all so long to arrive?

Without instruction, Ochako placed her hands on the earth before her and bowed her head. This position served her well, letting her appear subservient to him while hiding her face under her hair. She didn't want to look at the demons. She didn't want them to see her face. Fear gripped her as though icy hands had taken hold of her spine, rattling her.

A strange, chiming sound approached. Ochako could barely make out flashes of green and gold light from somewhere behind her. A soft breeze carried the smell of incense, ink, leather, and parchment. An undercurrent of dried blood cut through the other scents. The cool that accompanied these scents seemed to banish the warmth she felt from Izuku's light.

She held her breath when a voice like discordant wind chimes sliced through the air, breaking the tranquil happiness of Mt. Takao and the privacy she had shared with just Izuku. She did not understand any of the words, save one: Izuku. The language was varied, tonal, she surmised, but so alien that she dared not hazard what words meant which concept. The monster's tone of voice was sarcastically placating.

Izuku returned the pretense of politeness in kind. His words carried a rough edge to them, a bite that she hadn't heard even when he had corrected those two heroes that called him a boy. She understood immediately that Izuku could be a vicious and merciless beast, but that he reserved that malice for the enemy. Ochako had another reason just then to be thankful for Izuku, and his vigilant protection of their entire species.

Izuku prefaced his next statement by calling the demon by name. Mahbahgodeth, the demon cloaked in human faces, the mask with no physical body at its core. Ochako remembered this creature, the one she saw on the news. This horror was the one that had captured All Might, had taken Izuku's mother hostage, and had orchestrated the entire ceasefire. Shivering, Ochako stared down hard at the ground, not wanting to look and see the floating leather faces that were mere meters away from her. She didn't want to see the silent screams of those faces, the ones that had seemed so far away when they were on television.

Izuku barked out a command at the inhuman thing, and from the biting comply, Ochako surmised that the order would be adhered to, albeit maliciously. It unleashed a loud gonging noise, louder than anything she had ever heard in her life. The clamor thundered out, even louder than the arc of fire and light from the Chrysalis, but thankfully it did not roar constantly.

Ochako covered her ears for fear that they would bleed or worse. The joy she had felt earlier shattered into a thousand pieces. Panic consumed her spirit, and she was ready to scream, to beg Izuku to save her. Please, she asked deep within her mind, please save me from this.

There was a tug on the chain around her neck.

Ochako looked up, her face wet with tears. She knew she had to look utterly disgraceful. From below, on the ground, looking up at Izuku, he appeared godlike to her just then. He was also dreadfully demonic, alien, like the monsters that she feared. At that moment, her heart feared him and wanted his protection. He looked down on her with fiery eyes of indifference. It hurt to see him look at her this way.

He offered no words of comfort. He did not smile at Ochako. Instead, he merely goaded her. "Why did you stop, human? Did you not say earlier that you wanted to be my priestess, to guide the flocks in worship of their new god? Then fear nothing. Grovel and adore me, for that is your new role in life. You are mine, and I have you now until the end of your days. Do you hear me, woman? I have you. Now, approach your god and venerate him." Despite the clamor around them, his words resonated clearly into her. He could have whispered, and she'd still have heard it over the near-ceaseless ringing.

Ochako's heart bled. How could he be so cruel? Had he tricked her, made her into his slave, all on promises of love and a few kisses? Was she so cheap to buy?

No. That's not it, Ochako told herself. I have you, he said. It's a code. Just like when he used Morse before, this was a code. He loved her. He'd protect her. However, she had to play along. Ochako had to play the part of his worshipful slave.

Ochako swallowed, her throat dry and her tongue swollen. She was thirsty and tired, but she had to play this exhausting role. "Yes, master."

Her hands were still grasping her ears when the gonging noise finally stopped. It was only then that she felt the intrusion of the comm device in her ear. Ochako didn't want the rest of the world to see Izuku like this, to see him as a terrible tyrant, a devil-god demanding their service. His words, meant to give coded comfort to her, had probably already damaged his image within the Support Corps. Ochako couldn't allow humanity to misunderstand him any more than they already did. She also, at that moment, found her resolve. Izuku would never ask her to go above and beyond for this role. Ochako would have to do this with him but also carry the act farther than he would intend.

It was simple to remove the comm piece from her ear and to do it unnoticed. Her hair obscured the device. There was, though, no time to shut the thing off properly, to find the tiny button that would deactivate the fly on the wall, the spy in their midst. So Ochako did what she felt was right. She gave the offending device a soft flick of her wrist, but it's weightlessness meant that it would drift so far away that it would observe nothing.

Izuku's eyes did not betray any surprise as she crawled forward to kneel between his legs. He even accommodated her by spreading his knees farther apart. Had he guessed what she wanted to do? The concrete under the bench was smooth, yet hard on her knees. Regardless of that discomfort, Ochako resolved to worship Izuku for the benefit of their demonic audience and to give a performance worthy of Izuku's high priestess and slave.

She traded glances with him briefly, observing a moment of uncertain compassion even as Izuku continued to hold court with more demons as they arrived. Ochako did not understand the orders he doled out or the replies he received, but she knew one thing. Izuku was in complete command of this situation, and to maintain that command, he would need her help. She would love to be by his side, an advisor and supporter of all his ambitions. For now, though, what he needed was a prop: a tool, a toy to showcase his power over humanity.

Ochako resolved herself to be that showcase, no matter what it cost her. She kissed the inside of his thigh through the ephemeral pants he wore, trailing her lips softly towards his epicenter, her real goal where she would sacrifice everything for his sake. Teasingly, before reaching there, she moved to his other thigh and began placing kisses along there as well.

"My master," she kissed near his knee. "My savior," she trailed her mouth closer to her goal. "My god and owner," she finished her journey, lavishing soft kisses on his member through the shadow material of his pants. The altar she had chosen for worship grew hard under her efforts, hidden from view yet rising eagerly to receive her admiration and service.

Izuku stopped talking, interrupting himself when Ochako used her tongue, running it up the outer protection of his cock like a thief scaling a tower. His pants tasted like nothing at all, which reminded her that he could make them disappear on a whim. Ochako remained at the top, appreciating the summit after her long climb. She circled him with her tongue slowly, savoring the pulsing sensation, the ache that she knew he felt for her. As her eyes raked up across his hard muscles, she truly did enjoy the view from the mountaintop.

Thank you for the meal I am about to receive, Ochako prayed.

Izuku's eyes widened in alarm, hearing her directed thoughts, but he made no move to stop her. Taking that as her signal to continue, Ochako reached forward with her hands to reveal her altar and prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter ran long. I had to split it into two, and the second half is underway already. So don't worry, I'm not going to leave you hanging for long!
> 
> As for my personal life, my wife is seriously ill. Thankfully we got her to the doctor in time, and her treatment regimen is aggressive so she should recover, but she needs a lot of care right now.
> 
> As always, I appreciate the love you all have shown me. I respond to every comment, both on FF and AO3. Thank you again for your interest in my fanfiction. See you again soon!


	26. Body-Temple Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where things get lewder than ever before. Seriously. I warned you.

Midnight had chosen a rugged beast when selecting an off-road vehicle. The manual gear shift specific to this model was unfamiliar to her, but she was getting the hang of it quickly. "Hang on, ladies! Lean in!"

Momo and Mina grabbed what Mina called the "Oh Shit" handle above them and leaned away from the sharp turn Midnight had to make. Despite being buckled in, those handles were a constant companion on this trip. They had crossed the river without issue, but the rugged terrain leading to Mt. Takao was proving to be a problem. They couldn't go the street route to their south, not with so many demons crowding the streets. Truce or not, they couldn't risk it. That left only the northern path, but that crossed hills and backroads that interconnected oddly. So, they decided to skip the roads altogether.

They had removed the front passenger seat before they left. In its place was a stretch bed with straps. It came equipped with various IVs and medical equipment they could use and a refrigerator underneath. They also had an ample supply of synthetic hemoglobin, compatible with any blood type. White knuckling the steering wheel, Midnight just hoped that they wouldn't have to use any of it.

For that matter, Midnight was questioning her sanity for allowing her two remaining deputies to join her on this suicide mission. "Remind me again why the fuck you two are even here?"

As calm and composed as could be, Momo spoke up. "Because I'm the one that told you all about the incoming bombing, and thanks to my father's company, I have a live feed in my phone of their refueling efforts. By the way, they're moving fast. We have maybe twenty-five minutes before they finish their ready checks, then it's just a matter of take-off and making their formation for the run."

Midnight shook her head even as they hit another boulder, one that they overcame thanks to the monumental wheels of this beast. "I should've commandeered that from you and gone on my own…"

Mina was having none of that, though. "No one was volunteering to go with you. Everyone else is on missions to rescue whole families and with better odds. Uraraka, though, she's put herself on the line. She volunteered for the worst mission out of all of us. She's in the eye of the storm, the one place that puts her at the most risk. We can't leave her out there."

Midnight knew immediately that Miss Ashido did not mean the Hero Association when she said "We" but rather the collection of women in this vehicle. They had formed a bond with each other in the face of nearly impossible circumstances.

The two younger women had been adamant about coming with her, and with no time to argue, she had let them. The more she tried to question herself on it, the more she realized that these high school seniors, nearly graduated, were showing more heroic spirit than any professional she had met by their age. No hero she could name had displayed similar levels of bravery until that pro had become a veteran with years of training and experience. There was something about Uraraka, Yaoyorozu, and Ashido that stood out.

"Ashido, take the comm from me. I can't focus the signal and drive at the same time." Midnight ordered.

Mina reached forward, unbuckling briefly to do it. Extracting the comm piece, she quickly re-fastened herself to her seat before recalling Midnight's earlier instructions on how the comm system worked. Mina then secured the device to her ear. "This is Ashido Mina with Midnight. We are moving to, er, to extract Uraraka from Mt. Takao. Uraraka, do you read?"

There was no response.

"Uraraka, do you read?" Mina repeated. The ride had smoothed out. They were gradually ascending as the mountain loomed ahead of them.

Momo reached towards her friend. "Maybe there's a signal issue, mind if I try?"

Mina, though, hadn't given up. Leaning away from Momo, she tried again. "Ochako! If you can hear me, respond! Please, Ochako!" there was an edge of despair in her voice, one that pained both Momo and Midnight to hear.

They hit another bump. "Ashido, try signaling the Support Corps. They can manually force a direct comm to comm connection," Midnight offered.

Momo watched in pain as Mina kept trying. What was driving her to be so determined, to deny Momo's help?

"Hey, Support! Any of you guys listening? Hello? Support!" Mina had given up on using the coded signal-language of comm-etiquette. "Someone, answer me, please!"

Mina had almost given up hope when a voice from far away intruded on her thoughts. "Um. Yes? Hello? This is working, right?" There was an awkward tapping noise as the woman on the other end of the line checked her equipment.

"Yes! Hello! I can hear you! Support Corps, this is Ashido Mina with Midnight! We're trying to get connected to Uraraka Ochako on Mt. Takao! Can you help connect us, please?" Mina's desperation gave way to a flood of hope, a spring of energy suddenly bubbling to the surface of her words and posture.

"Um, well, this isn't the Support Corps. For some reason, their signals are getting jammed, something going on over at Narita. So, uh, hi, my name's Hatsume, Hatsume Mei," she said before sharing an awkward chuckle. "Oh! Hey! Let me see if I can help!"

"Thank you! Oh, thank you!" Mina blurted out, but there was no reply. The pink on pink woman waited tensely for a bit. Sweat beaded on her neck.

"What's going on?" Momo asked while Midnight focused on the road.

"Um, someone is trying to connect me to Uraraka…" Mina said, distracted by straining her ears for any sound from the device. "She said that the Support Corps is getting jammed… by Narita?"

"What?" Midnight interjected, her voice cold with sudden concern. "Why would they jam us like that… won't that just increase casualties when they do that damn bombing run?" There was a rising edge to her words as the implications crept into her mind. Did this mean they couldn't signal the other heroes in the field, either?

What about Aizawa, Midnight thought. He was working to rescue doctors and patients from that hospital in the evacuation zone. Would he and his team be safe?

Momo's hand covered her mouth as though the gesture could absorb her shock. "You don't… You don't think they're trying to stop us from signaling Uraraka, do you?"

Midnight's jaw clenched tight enough that she could taste blood. "The demons aren't the only monsters out there, Yaoyorozu. Ashido, anything yet?"

Mina shook her head. "Nothing yet, waiting for her to," she paused, trying to find the right words. "She's going to hack her way into Uraraka's comm device. At least, that's what I think she's trying to do."

"Ha! Good surmising. You succinctly described what I was doing! I had to re-route through a military satellite, so I don't know how long it will be until they catch us. Okay! I've connected you!" the exuberant voice of Hatsume Mei cut off, but Mina knew she was listening in on the call while maintaining it. She could hear the other woman breathing, or was that Ochako's breath?

"Uraraka! Uraraka Ochako! This is Ashido Mina! Do you read me?" she called out into the microphone on her headpiece, speaking louder than she needed to. Tears of frustration and worry streamed down her face.

There was no reply. "Um, Miss Ashido, right? The connection is solid, but there's no one on the line. Hold on, let me check a few things." Mina listened in anguish to the rapid clicking of an unseen keyboard.

The voice of unrestrained adrenaline came back online. "Okay, I checked the GPS built into the comm device, and it's floating several hundred meters in the air, south by southwest of Mt. Takao… at its current speed and trajectory, it will be over the ocean within an hour and will have gained hundreds of more meters of altitude…"

"Wait, stop." Mina had to collect her thoughts, and for that, she had to consult with Momo and Midnight. "Uraraka's comm device is floating away from the mountain… she must have used her Quirk on it…"

"I'm looking at it by satellite right now," said the determined voice of optimism. "Yeah, just a device. No person is attached. I'm pulling up the last audio and video recorded to see if I can figure out what happened."

"Uraraka's comm is off, just floating away?" Midnight asked, anger edging her words. "Of all the stupid timing…"

Momo struggled to think over this predicament. "Why would Uraraka use her Quirk to cast off her comm system?" It made no sense to her. "She could have just turned it off…"

It was like lightning had struck Mina's brain. "Unless she couldn't, like if she were in bad company… oh, no."

Mei's voice crackled to life in Mina's ear. "Okay, you have got to hear this. Damn, I'm good at this!"

"Why did you stop, human?" came the deep melodic voice of Izuku on the line. Mina almost yelped at the words, harsh and commanding her full attention. "Did you not say earlier that you wanted to be my priestess? Won't you guide the flocks, leading them in worshipping their new god? Then fear nothing. Grovel and serve me, for that is your new role in life. You are mine, and I have you now until the end of your days. Do you hear me, woman? I have you. Now, approach your god and worship him."

Oh, god, Mina thought. Approach and worship. Why did that make parts of her tingle?

The last audio that the device recorded was unmistakably Ochako's voice. "Yes, master."

Mina tried to make sense of it all but couldn't. "Is there a speakerphone button on this? I think the rest of us need to hear that."

Momo reached out, and this time, Mina allowed the taller woman unrestricted access to the device. Soon, with instruction from Midnight and the woman on the other end of the comm system, the audio segment played back for all of them. A hologram of Izuku accompanied it. He sat as though enthroned on a bench. The video was taken from below his eye level, likely by someone on their knees.

Mina's eyes widened when she thought of Ochako on her knees in front of Izuku like this.

Midnight had been too busy with off-roading to look over her shoulder and see what the others had just watched. Momo, however, had seen it all. "I'm not sure I understand. What is it that he's having her do?"

Mina, however, had put two and to together. "Oh, shit," she said as it all started to make sense.

Momo turned to her friend as the vehicle bounced over another off-road obstacle. "What? What's wrong?"

Mina, however, was smiling from ear to ear. "She's blowing him!"

"No! There's no way!" Momo objected.

Mina started nodding enthusiastically. "Oh, hell yes, there's a way! Think about it, and be honest with yourself, Momo. If it was you, and not Ochako, alone with him, and I mean c'mon, you remember what he looks like. If it was you, and you'd just finished the adventure of a lifetime, you don't think you might try and get a special little, I don't know, reward?"

Midnight interjected. "That didn't sound like a normal sex-play conversation. It's too far from the standard for two people having their first sexual handshake. No, there's more going on there."

Momo expressed deep-seated concerns. "What if they're not alone? Could the enemy be there already?"

Midnight's grip on the steering wheel could not get any tighter. "Those were my thoughts exactly. From what we've seen, these fuckers are all sadistic bastards. Midoriya Izuku may be having Uraraka put on a show of subservience for them."

Momo's face turned shades redder, almost competing with Mina's complexion. "Oh god," she said. Her eyes were wide with sudden realization, adding together all of the facts that Mina and Midnight had just pieced together. "I think you're right. That just leaves one question, though. Why? I mean, I get the sex bit, but why not wait till later, for, you know, privacy?"

Midnight spoke up, "It also begs the question of how we can communicate with them. Or, for that matter, how do we get Uraraka out of there?"

Mina's eyes lit up with eager fire. She felt like she was holding a puzzle worth figuring out. It also involved sex, so that made it even more entertaining to ponder. "Maybe Midnight's onto something about them putting on a show. Maybe this is a distraction for the enemy…"

Momo's eyes lit up as well. "He's trying to protect her," she uttered as it dawned on her. It was almost like something out of one of her favorite novels.

Midnight, though nodding as she was coming to a similar conclusion, still prodded further. "Explain your reasoning."

Momo leaned towards the center of the passenger cabin. "These things see humans as slaves, but they also see Izuku as their latest recruit. Maybe he's keeping Uraraka safe by," she paused and licked her lips before continuing. "Maybe he's having her perform as his slave." Her cheeks were hot as she said the last bit out loud, finally accepting the full implications of her thought process.

Mina, uncaring that they were being listened to by a previously unknown party, gave Momo a sidelong glance and a knowing smirk. "Is that a hint of jealousy I hear in your voice, or just some vicarious smutty excitement?"

Momo's eyes narrowed at the way Mina's eyebrows waggled up and down. "I'm not the one who filmed him, Ashido, that was you. Don't assume that I'm like that."

Mina's smile got bigger, much to Momo's dismay. "That's not what you said when you showed me your copy of my video. You know, the one on your phone that you asked me to give you."

Momo had the decency to appear flustered. "Fine. Maybe I was a bit excited back when we met him. Maybe if I were in Uraraka's position, I'd be intimate with him. But you would too, wouldn't you? Boyfriend or not, you still filmed him while he was naked."

Mina's cheeks puffed up with indignity. "I would never… I mean, okay, in the heat of the moment, I might have slipped up. But it's nothing Eijiro wouldn't understand or forgive!"

Momo raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you're the only one out of us that would be immune to Midoriya?"

Midnight interjected. "Enough catfighting, ladies. Let's just all admit that if given a chance, we'd all jump his bone. Good? Okay, let's move on and get to the important questions: contacting them and rescuing Uraraka."

Mina remained quiet, contemplating Momo's and Midnight's words. If it were her, alone with Midoriya Izuku, would she remember Eijiro enough to keep things professional? Yes, she told herself. I'd help him save the city, and that would be the end of it. Right? That would be all. Wouldn't it?

The crackling voice of Mei on loudspeaker interrupted them. "As entertaining as this is, I do have some thoughts on both of those problems. Does anyone have a way to hook your comm device into your car's radio system? Also, you're driving the new Tesla-X ATV, right? Model 22XX?"

Midnight raised an eyebrow. "Yes, that's what I'm… Wait, what are you going to do?"

Mei's smile was practically audible. "Something involving Morse code, the central computer of your car, and the floodlight built onto your roof. I trust you have a message you'd like me to personalize?"

Momo, smiling the whole time, was already fabricating the wire they'd need.

{}

There was no more time. Izuku had to get Ochako into position and assume his role. Being the Prince that the demons wanted, that they expected, was exhausting. However, it was necessary.

Izuku sat on the bench as though it were his throne. From there, he surveyed all below him, assuming a demeanor of prideful ownership. With the Chrysalis behind him and Ochako chained to his wrist, he knew he had all the props of authority he would ever need. Why bother with thrones and crowns when the power of titans flows in your veins?

Sands coalesced in front of him, no more than ten meters away from where he and Ochako sat. Izuku did not need to wait and see who would emerge. He already knew who to expect.

"Welcome to Mt. Takao. Mahbahgodeth, I presume?" Izuku asked.

The hollow creature emerged after soldering together its physical shape, manifesting out of thin air. It still wore the ruby mask derived from the blood of its latest victim, though there were cracks at the edges now. Doubtless, the monster would seek another human to drain soon. Izuku's lips flinched into a snarling expression that he had to suppress. The thought of this thing being even on the same mountain as Ochako soured Izuku's stomach.

Heated air surrounding the Chrysalis empowered a constant breeze as the cool mountain air ascended once warmed. The leather coat of faces the demon wore billowed in the air from the constant current. Izuku allowed his eyes to pause and consider several of those faces. He wondered who they were when they were alive. What criteria did this foul thing use when deciding who to wear? What made one person someone he chose to drain for their blood, and another to merely turn into vellum for his library? Was there a difference? Did Izuku even want these answers?

"You honor me, mighty Prince. I have long looked forward to reacquainting myself with you." The monster's voice was like scratches on a record and the clamor of wind chimes. The words sounded fabricated. Synthetic.

"Where are the other two? Where are Sondok and Mara?" Izuku asked with idle curiosity, pretending the answer was inconsequential though he desperately wanted to know.

"Sondok watches over the mother regent. They are about to ascend the mountain to be with you. The humans also surrendered their champion as collateral for our truce. He is in Sondok's custody." The monotonous boredom that the creature felt in relaying old news was apparent.

Still, that meant that his mother was close. If she was with Sondok, that was the best option for her out of the remaining choices. Mara was as likely to torture her as to lead her somewhere safe, while this monster in Izuku's presence was not inclined to see humans as anything except raw materials.

Izuku dismissively waved his hand. "She can stay down there. Keep them dematerialized and out of my sight.

"Of course, oh wise Prince," the demon spoke with a voice that dripped with false accolades. This creature disliked the idea of obeying a human being, even a former member of the species. Izuku would have to watch this one even more carefully than the others.

"You never told me Mara's whereabouts," Izuku inquired idly.

Four strange claws gestured outwards in an alien gesture, a shrug, Izuku supposed. "Mara is as elusive as any shadow. She amuses herself, playing at the edges of dignity and restraint. I'm lead to understand that she has selected several pets among the locals to take home with her."

Izuku smirked at the thought, even though internally, he was disgusted. Mara was known as the Shadow Lover. She might as well be considered a black widow. She had the habit of taking lovers regularly, though few could say what she did with the bodies after she finished with them.

"Summon her here. I don't want to risk her violating the truce. That should be a human error, not a Malfean one." The lie passed Izuku's lips quickly and naturally. He knew there was no way the lieutenants of hell would allow themselves to fall into Cecelyne's debt. He feared for the safety of whoever it was that Mara had decided to bully, fuck, or kill.

"Oh, and don't forget to keep Sondok at the base of the mountain with those humans. Dematerialized and out of sight. Is that clear?" Izuku added with just a touch of spite.

"Of course, kind Prince. I will carry out your request immediately," the creature's mask lowered deeper into its hollow body before ascending. A bow? Maybe.

There was no warning for what came next. The demon rattled from somewhere deep inside. It was as though all the air caught within its cloak was roiling together in a miniature typhoon. The stones that rubbed together for its strange voice spun and glowed.

Then came the noise.

It was a terrible and discordant gong, louder than any sound ought to be. More garish than thunder from close range. Izuku was sure that if not for the shield he had placed on Ochako's ears, she would be deaf. Still, Izuku marveled at the amount of information the shockwaves of noise transmitted. The loud gong was a shout from within the demon's soul, rapidly compressing the words before spilling them out across the world.

Izuku almost flinched when Ochako stopped lavishing attention on him. He turned to look down at her, cowering beneath him and covering her ears. It made his heart want to bleed out of shame for letting her experience this.

"Pardon me a moment," he excused himself in the Malfean dialect before looking down at Ochako with so much contempt in his eyes that it hurt. It was awful to look down at her like this, to use her as a tool for his performance.

How could he help her understand? What words could reach her while concealing his meaning from the enemy? Then, in a moment of spiration, Izuku knew. "Did you not say earlier that you wanted to be my priestess? Won't you guide the flocks, leading them in worshipping their new god? Then fear nothing. Grovel and serve me, for that is your new role in life. You are mine, and I have you now until the end of your days. Do you hear me, woman? I have you. Now, approach your god and worship him."

Ochako stared up at him, her eyes filled with painful uncertainty. There was no way she could know what either the demon or he were saying to each other. She looked so lost and confused. He wanted to pick her up off the ground and hold her, to tell her this would all be fine, that he would protect her. He could do none of that, though.

Then, she seemed to resolve something within her heart. Her reply of "Yes, master," was superficial. The look in her eyes, though, told him that she had parsed out his hidden meaning. Ochako was safe in his care, and he had sworn to keep her that way.

Maybe she was feeling a little too safe, Izuku wondered, as she kissed her way up his thighs and uttered praises towards him. Was this her way of acting like a slave?

When her lips kissed along the length of his shaft, Izuku fought not to moan or squirm. Ochako's breath was warm and humid, even through the clothes he had fabricated for himself. She doted so much loving attention onto him that no years of experience or training could mimic this sensation. She wasn't acting, and that thought caused Izuku to have a deep and uncomfortable feeling.

His heart ushered a single loud beat inside his chest. Though he was made of essence and light and had no blood to speak of, the welling emotion inside of him caused one steady pulse that resonated through the rest of him, including his cock, which was growing under Ochako's care.

When he heard the prayer from within her heart, he had a frightening and arousing idea of what she was planning to do for him, or rather, to him. What was he supposed to do? Unsure of the answer, he leaned back, spread his legs just a bit wider, and determined that if Ochako wanted to go down on him, then that was fine. He would let her do as she pleased.

{}

Unable to remind herself that this was an act, Ochako was genuinely frustrated that Izuku's pants had no zipper or buttons. Her efforts to find one sent her fingers along a frustrating journey throughout his groin, one that must have amused him. The smirk on his face said as much. She ran her fingers across the bulge that emanated from his center. Ochako marveled that it traveled away from his groin and out to rest across his thigh. The shadow-wrought pants he wore were hiding him, but there was an awful lot to conceal.

If Izuku wasn't going to help her find an opening, Ochako resolved to find another way to expose him, to draw his python out of hiding. Ochako allowed her neck to relax as she leaned onto Izuku's thigh, nuzzling her face against his growing cock. With kisses and nudges from her face, she pushed it higher and higher towards the waistline of his pants. Since he couldn't be bothered to assist her, Ochako decided to help herself.

At last, Izuku relented. Ochako watched as an opening appeared at the center of his pants. Removing her face from his thigh, which was a resting place she wanted to return to someday, Ochako braced herself. She reached inside and took hold of something substantial, pulsing with heat and energy. She took a steadying breath and then pulled, slowly drawing him out from his pants leg and bringing him out into the open, revealing the object of her attention. Thankfully, it was still soft enough to bend as she brought it out, but that didn't last.

Izuku's cock was unlike anything she had imagined. His holographic nature lent it a strange glow, something she forgot to expect while pawing him through the shadow-substance of his pants. It was obscenely large, an indomitable tower rising from his body as it angled over her face. The flared head capped off a smooth shaft without scars or blemishes. If she concentrated, Ochako could see the blood vessels inside.

She knew it would be significant, but the size was thoroughly intimidating. Ochako had fantasized about it being huge, but that was a euphemism. Perhaps this was her inexperience exaggerating things, but it just seemed like too much. Seeing it out in the open and up close, she had no idea how something like this was supposed to fit inside of, well, anywhere. His cock didn't inspire the same fear that the thought of being branded had earlier. No, her sense of foreboding undermined itself with excruciating anticipation, a throbbing need inside of her. It probably won't fit inside of me, but it might, a dark part of her whispered to herself.

Ochako took in a long, steadying breath. Blowing it out slowly, she let the soft breeze flow from deep in her lungs out across his sensitive skin. There were no hairs to entice, but she watched with satisfaction as his balls tightened up, ascending to hug closer to the base of his cock.

It's just Izuku and me, she told herself. There is no one else here. Pretend he's on the phone, talking to someone far away. She imagined him having a pointless conversation. Yes, he was just on the phone with the Hero Association. No emergency. No enemy. It was all red tape and paperwork. He was working despite being home with her. She'd teach him not to ignore her. In her fantasy, she was his loving and devoted wife. There was no concrete beneath her knees, no ruined maid uniform on her body.

Instead, she knelt on a lush shaggy rug while wearing lingerie for him. He had been working so hard, and they had been looking forward to some alone time for so long. The warmth around her was from the fire he had lit. Then the damn phone rang, and he had to take the call. Well, what's a good wife to do when she's been wanting her husband alone? Should she change her plans when she hasn't been allowed to have him to herself for so long? Ochako decided that she'd have some fun while teasingly getting payback for this interruption.

She took his cock gently between her fingers, using both hands to embrace it. Unlike the rest of Izuku, his cock wasn't warm. It was hot. It seemed to have a lifeforce and will all of its own, and it demanded her absolute obedience.

"I will invade you," it taunted. Ochako felt herself grow wetter, throbbing at the thought. "I will fill you, own you, dominate you." With each declaration, Ochako's imagination stirred up the inner walls of her pussy. They spasmed, complaining to her that she was empty. "Do you believe that it's the chain that binds you to us? No. I bind you."

All Ochako had done was touch him with her fingers, and she was the one moaning for more.

Oh god, Ochako thought, I'm personifying his cock. What the fuck is wrong with me? She shook the thought away, realizing that she had been superimposing Izuku's deep melodic voice onto his cock. That same voice was making demands over her head in a language she did not understand. Just a phone call with the Hero Association, she reminded herself, ordering her heart to stop beating so loudly in her ears.

Ochako decided that the best way to calm down and shut up the voice in her head was to reply using her mouth. As funny as it would be to talk back, she opted for a much more direct and intimate conversation, one where words were not required.

I worship you, Ochako thought while kissing the crown, feeding Izuku an intimate prayer the way she might pop a chocolate into his mouth. She turned her head left and right under his cock, kissing him slowly, her lips softly spreading across his skin as she moved lazily around his head. She took her time, letting each kiss last. Ochako grazed her sensitive lips across his even more sensitive crown as though she was trying to memorize the shape and texture of his most intimate parts. She avoided the slit at the tip and the sensitive epicenter just beneath it, where the folds of the crown met with the long stem-line of his underside as it began its descent towards the base.

She pulled down on him, angling his cock as though to meet it face to face. The eye practically winked at her while weeping with arousal, demanding her attention. The substance was clear, yet it seemed to glow with vibrant energy. Essence, she realized. Ochako was happy to comply, to lavish her favorite idol with praise. She leaned forward, reapplying her lips to his head, only this time, it was a direct kiss.

This time, when her lips met the slit of his cock, she did not avoid it, did not tease it. She softly kissed him straight on and allowed her lips to softly part. Her teeth parted as she opened her mouth, just enough to reach tentatively forward with her tongue. The feeling that jolted her mouth wasn't entirely electric, but it certainly wasn't just the taste of salt.

She didn't show it, but Ochako was thrilled when Izuku's eyes moved briefly down to watch her make out with his cock. His lips twitched with the beginning of a smile. It was a stronger reaction than he could afford, but to her, it might as well have been the face of unrepentant ecstasy. He restored his face, reassuming cruel neutrality, and resumed his conversation. However, that moment renewed Ochako's courage and stoked the fires inside of her.

Ochako decided then and there that she could get used to doing this. After all, Ochako reasoned, the objective here was to make this last, to put on a good show. In other words, she was going to tease Izuku's cock until he escalated things and took their bedroom activities to the next stage. Rather than allow herself to acknowledge who they were performing for, she kept her focus on Izuku's face as she continued her game with his cock.

Ochako's fantasy earlier didn't start with her lips at his cockhead. Her imagination had her beginning at the base and working her way up. Still, she couldn't leave his crown without making this kiss into one long goodbye, one farewell, and I'll see you again soon. Ochako opened her mouth wider and raised up just a bit more on her knees. This way, she could wrap her lips around more of his cock. As her tongue lashed across his slit, she tasted even more of his vibrant nectar. Then she encircled him, dragging her tongue around the seal her lips had formed on his cock.

Izuku's cock throbbed in her mouth, but he fought to avoid giving her any reaction. His eyes didn't return to meet her gaze. He didn't moan or call her name. However, that deep lurch from the base of his cock to the tip spoke volumes to her. The few drops of nectar she had tasted became a slow but steady trickle, one she happily lapped up.

Ochako's heart swelled as Izuku sat up. He never took his eyes off of the person, yes, the person that he was addressing. Even that admission disrupted Ochako's fantasy of her husband being on the phone, but that didn't matter. Izuku reached down with his hand and scratched behind her ear like she was his kitten, his pet. For some reason, just that simple gesture made Ochako enormously happy.

Izuku seemed content while Ochako practically purred with his cock in her mouth, letting her moan travel along her tongue and into his cock. She closed her eyes and focused on pleasing him, using her mouth and fingers to caress and love him, to show him just how devoted and in love she was without uttering a single word.

Just then, Izuku flinched so noticeably that Ochako's eyes flew open at the sudden movement, gripping the armrest of the bench hard enough that the metal warped around his fingers. His cock grew harder in her mouth, forcing her to withdraw while watching it grow slightly yet menacingly. His back and abs tensed. Every muscle in his body throbbed and pulsed before her eyes. Ochako looked up to see his fangs bared, and his jaw clenched. Something was happening, but she had no idea what. She wished that she knew what was wrong or what she could do about it.

Ochako's lower lip trembled while her jaw chattered, shivering. She couldn't stop it. Uncertain of what she could do for him without breaking the act, she allowed her fantasy to subside and face the stark reality. They were in danger, and her safety depended on convincing their audience that she was his slave. Not his wife, not his lover, his slave.

Her master hadn't ordered her to stop lavishing his cock with her mouth. She acted despite the butterflies swarming in her heart. Ochako leaned forward to bring her mouth to kiss and lick him at and below the base of his cock. She lifted it with her fingers, stroking it as though reminding his cock that her mouth would return, allowing it to ascend above her like a mountain she was going to climb. There, before her ascent, Ochako distracted herself by planting her soft lips against the stones beneath his pinnacle, or more directly, his balls.

Ochako prayed as she planted wet kisses on his skin. Please be okay, Izu. Please protect me and the rest of us too. Please, when this is over, please make love to me. Please, so that I can replace this memory with something better, something happier, as our first time together.

I love you, Ochako shouted from within her heart, hoping that Izuku could hear her.

{}

Mahbahgodeth was annoying, Izuku decided. The demon was a threat to be taken seriously, and Izuku was doing his best to keep the creature distracted, which took less effort than Izuku first estimated for one simple reason. Once the demon started talking, it seldom shut up.

It ranted on inane topics, such as how it pitied Sondok for attending two humans at the mountain's base and their biological needs. Thankfully, the Prince had provided for that by breaking open two vending machines. Izuku suspected that the demon presented pity when it felt spite and was secretly gloating over his contemporary handling such a menial task.

The demon described, in detail, Sondok's defeat at the hands of All Might, Ingenium, and Endeavor. He regaled the shining Prince with his exploits, capturing All Might and arranging for a truce with the humans. Izuku could tell, though, that facts were missing in the story. What had Mara been up to that whole time? Where had Mahbahgodeth gone when he passed All Might off along with Izuku's mother to Sondok?

The demons were plotting something. Izuku could practically smell it. Whatever it was, they didn't want him to know about it.

Then there was the matter of Izuku's appearance outside of his Chrysalis. Mara had reacted with some surprise earlier, but she was still quite composed. Mahbahgodeth showed no sense of alarm or surprise at all. Clenching his teeth, Izuku wondered just how much this monster knew.

Izuku's thoughts were interrupted by Ochako's tongue encircling the head of his cock. The wet sensation was utterly delicious. His abs flexed and relaxed instinctively. Waves of bliss traveled from the summit of his cock down and out through the rest of his body. Izuku resented that this performance exposed their intimacy to such an unworthy audience. However, he was thankful that at least the lower-ranked demons remained a respectful distance away from their Prince.

He'd make all of this up to Ochako soon, he swore to himself. He would thank her, reward her, and love her. It was jarring, knowing that he had the power to make himself fall in love at will. The strangest part was that his thoughts towards her merely grew in intensity with his self-imposed enchantment. None of his affection for her was new but only different by degree. That must mean that his feelings for her from before were genuine.

Lightning sharp power arced into Izuku's back. The pain was sudden and jarring. His mind struggled to accept what was happening. Despite the pain, he forced his mind into overdrive, using the calculating powers of Cecelyne to catalog these strange sensations and understand what their source was.

Ochako looked up at him with alarm written clearly on her face. She dared not say anything. Instead, she resumed her act as his obedient slave. Her prayers for his well being broke his heart, reminding him that he could not openly talk to her or explain anything to her.

Izuku truly hated being the Prince. If it meant he couldn't talk to the woman he loved, what use was all of this power?

"Fascinating," the disembodied demon spoke up. "It appears the Prince is much closer to the heart of Malfeas than I first surmised."

Izuku turned his head to gaze over his shoulder, yet he barely needed to. The sensations churning inside his body and the intellectual prowess at his disposal helped him surmise the cause of his pain and discomfort.

Everything inside the anima surrounding the Chrysalis had changed. In addition to the floating crystal shapes and montage views of cityscapes, the holograms shifted to include underwater scenes and alien examples of marine life. Aquatic demons swam about. Tentacles, fins, and teeth were abundant. The shell-like structure of the Chrysalis seemed more natural when it projected the hellish waterscapes that teemed beneath Malfeas.

"So, the Prince has already met Kimbery, the Sea that Marched Against the Flame," the demon mused aloud, restating Izuku's thoughts. "He's also sampled her power and tasted her gifts."

A bitter bile taste rose from Izuku's throat. A sea of poison and acid rose from within Izuku's gut, flooding out to fill his veins and any crevasse in his body that the current could find. His un-beating heart of light welled with the dark depth of salty tears.

No. That was not all.

Darkness spilled out from the unfathomable depths of Izuku's heart, flooding him with untold power. Dangerous amounts of uncontrollable strength overcame him. His muscles thrummed and pulsed with newfound potency. The metal armrest of the bench caved beneath his fingers as though he was crushing butter in his grip. Izuku did not mean to destroy it and was suddenly afraid of what his own body could do if he weren't careful.

"Not just Kimbery," the demon mused aloud, observing Izuku's discomfort with ice-cold interest. "The Prince has also encountered Isidoros, the Blackness that Twists the Skies. You have shown yourself unique in handling discussion with more than one of the Primordials at a time. You're also proceeding rapidly to the heart of Malfeas. Too rapidly."

Pain wracked through Izuku's bones as he lamented his connection to his other self, matched only by the frustration of not knowing at all what was happening inside the Chrysalis anymore. Oh god, Izuku, what have you done?

As much as he wanted to control himself, he also craved release. Urges rose from deep inside of him. Izuku could feel his newfound strength flood into his cock. It pulsed painfully, sending hollow sensations of frustrated desire through him. His balls bloated with unspent seed. If he did not get ahold of himself, he knew that he was a danger to Ochako.

"My Prince… just how are you doing all of this? If I may…" the demon inquired or at least attempted.

"You may not," Izuku barked back. "I'm done talking, for now, deva. I need to express myself by other means. We may resume after I finish instructing my new priestess." It would be a hands-on lesson if Izuku had his way.

As much as he wanted to throw her on the ground and mount her, he had to stop himself. He did not fully understand his body's new abilities yet, and he was just as likely to kill her as to bring her pleasure. Still, she looked delicious as she lowered her mouth to suckle on his aching balls. They felt like hard stones with how full they were, how heavy.

Izuku hungered for Ochako's flesh, to enter her. He wanted to pick her up and carry her out of the sight of these demons. He needed to take her away and fuck her endlessly. He wanted to flood her, empty himself into her. Izuku craved the sensations he could make her feel, the sounds she would make while writhing underneath him.

No. Izuku had to stop himself. The act must continue. Besides, he warned himself, his power was dangerous. He had to get himself under control. Ochako trusted him, loved him. He could hear her calling for him from the most private sanctuary in her heart. As desperate as he was to satisfy himself and this newfound hunger, he had to find a way that…

Oh. That would do.

His smirk grew into a fang-filled grin as he looked down at her. After taking stock of his newest abilities, he had arrived at his solution, one that would not put his lover at risk. Izuku would sate his thirst for release, and Ochako would provide him the means.

{}

There was something hungry about Izuku's eyes, something that told Ochako that she was his prey. Ochako saw him with a similar glint in his eye before, but only while he was fighting. Her breath caught in her throat. With demons behind her and her new boyfriend under demonic influence, her position was more precarious than ever.

There was no way to know if her inner thoughts, prayers, if she was honest about them, were even reaching Izuku. She hoped that he heard her, that he would keep hold of himself and that he'd protect her.

Was there a plan for after this? Did he have a way to get her off this mountain safely? Maybe that was a job he had left to the other Izuku after they merged.

After the one inside the Chrysalis killed the Izuku she was intimate with and loved, she thought bitterly. The idea stirred something terrible inside of Ochako, a gnawing pain, unlike anything she had ever felt. Finally, she could be honest with herself.

She wasn't doing this because of the demons watching. Ochako was serving Izuku with her mouth because she couldn't stand the idea that his short life would end without any gratitude or love for everything he had done. She tried to tell herself that the one inside the Chrysalis was just another side of the same coin, that they were one person, but no matter how she reasoned it out, she knew that the man she was in love with was going to die soon.

Even in the best-case scenario, The Prince would emerge and absorb his hologram, consuming him. Ochako had consoled herself before this moment with the idea that Izuku's memories would live on inside The Prince. Now, that thought seemed as bitter as ashes in her mouth. Ochako realized on some level that the one here with her was Izuku. That meant that the one in there was The Prince. Even though she wanted her first time with a man to be in a safe and intimate environment, she had to do something for the man who had done everything for her without asking for a single thing in return.

Ochako hadn't chosen to orally pleasure Izuku just out of some ruse against the demons or even to appease her arousal. Those were only her secondary motivations. Now, before the Chrysalis opened, was the only time she was guaranteed to spend with him before he'd be gone forever. She wanted him to feel the kind of love she could offer him, but also wanted more of him so that she could remember him for the rest of her life.

As threatening as they were, the demons did not matter to her. All that Ochako was concerned with was that Izuku felt loved and accepted. Even now, as his cock throbbed threateningly in her grasp, growing hotter and harder under her tongue as she ascended his length, she could read his growing need as clearly as if he had a gauge built into his groin. If he did have one, it would have announced that he was full to the point of bursting and that he needed someone to empty him.

His muscles tensed as she watched. They seemed harder, denser than before. Wisps of darkness traveled along his veins, intermingling with his light forged body. Izuku, she prayed, what is happening to you?

He might go crazy from all this power being pumped into him, part of her thought. Hell, I might have a front-row seat to watch him lose his mind right at that moment. Izuku might take me against my will, use me. He might even kill me. Well, Ochako thought, even if he does that, it won't be him doing those things. I'll still love the part of him that's human inside, even if it's the last thing I do.

Ochako stroked the luminous skin of his member, letting her hands rise and fall across the surface of his turgid cock. Her face rose alongside the pulsing weapon, but not to adore it. Instead, she lavished attention on the man who owned it. She wanted to worship the swordsman, not just his sword. She allowed her face to slowly wander as she got up on her knees, one centimeter at a time, planting kisses up his sculpted abs, feeling the tight valleys between those protruding muscles with her lips and occasionally her tongue.

Playfully, she let her tongue dip into his bellybutton. I'm doing this all for you. It's not for them. It's not even for me, she silently directed her thoughts towards him. Ochako allowed her tongue to trail upwards along the ridges of his upper abdominals as she wandered towards the side. She removed a hand from his cock to explore under his vest, pulling it open and exposing a tight nipple, one of the capstones for his pectoral muscles. Her fingers trailed their way long before her face could reach that destination.

"Take me," she whispered while looking up into his eyes, those burning eyes full of hunger that frightened her. She whispered past her trembling emotions and over that hunger to the heart of the man inside. "I belong to you. You have me, all of me."

Izuku's stern gaze met Ochako's. Her eyes turned away from his face, his gaze too intense for her. Instead, she watched his hand rise from where it had destroyed part of the bench. It was a flat open palm, a gesture telling her to stop. Stop ascending. Stop getting up to his level. Izuku didn't touch her. The hand signal he gave her trembled, ever so little, but she saw it. Was he afraid? For her sake? Was he fearful of the demons or himself?

She looked again at his face. Izuku's eyes seemed almost predatory. Ochako swallowed. Her saliva felt thick around the back of her throat. Somehow, she knew that he was going to become an active participant, no longer sitting back and letting her treat him like an idol. Deep inside, she throbbed with anticipation.

Her ankle encountered a strange sensation. Looking down at it, Ochako watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as a long thick tentacle stretched out to wrap around her leg. The only thing that stopped her from panicking was the tentacle's composition, the same tangible light as Izuku's body. The suction cups bit teasingly at her skin as it extended higher up her leg, quickly surrounding her knee before trailing up her thigh.

She took the time to look up again into his eyes. His smirk and cocked eyebrow told her that he was having fun. Was he even in control of himself anymore? "Izuku," she whispered. "Please."

Ochako never got to finish her request. She yelped when a second tentacle took hold of her other leg. The two moved in sync with each other, climbing up and wrapping around her calves before grasping her thighs. She trailed them with her eyes, tracing them back to their source. Each was several meters long, and they grew increasingly thick as her gaze followed them back to where they emanated from somewhere just behind Izuku. Did they sprout out of his back? Were they permanent? Temporary?

"Oh… oh fuck," Ochako breathed as a third one approached her from underneath Izuku's seat, extending out from behind him as it traveled between his legs. She steadied herself, placing a hand on each of his thighs. She leaned forward. Her movements made his cock rub obscenely against her neck and face. Only afterward did she fear that her Quirk would instinctively affect him, except it didn't. Had he somehow made himself immune to her power?

That thought alone made her feel more powerless than ever in her life. She was utterly at his mercy. Ochako moaned as her mouth grazed up his cock while the tentacles were approaching her epicenter. The third had wrapped around her waist and wormed its way under her blouse. Once nestled inside, it climbed up towards her breasts. The tiny suction-mouths teased and bit her in so many places. They paid special attention near her breasts and down at her thighs, making her squirm. She grasped onto his cock, freely able to use all of her fingers, as Izuku's new appendages lifted her off the concrete, holding her up in front of him as though she weighed nothing.

Her panties were sopping, uncomfortably damp from her excitement. Her inner and outer lips felt swollen, thick with engorged need. She was painfully aware of moisture on her clit, of brief moments of friction as her leg movements caused her panties to rub against her, slicked by her juices. Ochako's smell filled her nose. Her entire body seemed hot. Sweat coated her skin, both from the heat made by Izuku's constant light and the new sensations traveling across her skin. Ochako's breasts felt hot and constrained. Her nipples complained about how rough her clothes felt.

All pretense, all fantasy, was gone. Izuku was going to fuck her mercilessly in front of the demons that had come to claim him. Maybe he'd take her with him to hell where she'd serve as his slave, his whore. It wasn't the life she wanted. It was frightening. Somehow, though, it was also exciting.

"Yes," she breathed out before raking her tongue against his cock, firmly holding it as she slathered it with her spit. She was no longer demurely kissing it as she had before, not even the wet kisses when she had mustered her courage. Now she was using her mouth and hands as pleasure tools, things for him to use, for him to fuck as she coordinated them for his arousal.

Ochako almost screamed with fear and excitement once the tentacle he sent up her blouse found its targets. First, the tendril lifted her bra away from her breasts before small mouths latched onto her. The skin on her chest felt on fire. His tentacles teased her with bites, even as Izuku squeezed and played with her tits. He was rough with her, using her globes as toys, yet he was also mindful of how to arouse her, nipping along her skin and making teasing circles that avoided the two specific areas she wanted him to claim and gnaw. It was torture, and she loved it. Finally, after what felt like forever, Izuku took hold of her nipples with his exploring tentacle, pulling and biting on one nipple before grasping the other.

Without even touching it, Izuku had primed her pussy. Ochako could feel her vaginal walls pulse, screaming at her, demanding thorough fucking. Wanton desire eroded her sense of where and who she was as she opened her mouth wide, trying to take as much of his cock into her as possible, uncaring how this might distort or stretch her face, what it would look like with his cock obscenely filling her mouth as she bathed the head with her tongue.

Someone near her commented about something, speaking in a language she didn't understand. There was a conversation going on in the background, but Ochako did not care. All Ochako wanted was for Izuku to stop teasing her with his tentacles and to take her virginity. Specifically, to ram her down onto his cock and make her scream. On some level, she could tell that her mind wasn't working the way it usually would, that something was influencing her thoughts. However, she did not care. Whatever was affecting Izuku, making him insane with lust, was infecting her too. She shared his madness, and she thought it was beautiful.

Izuku barked back at whoever had spoken. He seemed powerful. Every movement he made, every gesture, was authoritative and confident. Ochako wanted more of him in her, more of this beautiful man. She forced her head over the crown of his cock, uncaring that she was choking on it, as she used her hands to coat the rest of the shaft with her spit. In a moment of delirium, she thrust one of her hands down into her panties. There she gathered moisture while also touching herself where she longed for Izuku to touch her.

Izuku chose that as his signal to oblige her.

Ochako's fingers met the wandering tip of a long tentacle. Afraid but excited, she moved her hand out of his way, reminding herself that this was part of Izuku. She expected him to surge forward, to use the tentacle and prime her further, to stretch her out in preparation for his cock. Ochako wasn't sure what she thought of that. Her mind, muddled as it was, struggled to make a clear decision. She decided to trust Izuku, though, so if he wanted this, then he'd have access to enter her.

She was filled with frustration and relief when Izuku's used its suction mouths to pull open her lips, parting her like a blooming flower, wet with morning dew. She returned her hand, now drenched in her arousal, to his cock, coating him with the juices pouring out from her. Ochako only hoped that she'd feel him extract those fluids directly from their source before pouring in some of his own.

Squirming, writhing, she felt the two tentacles meet at the entrance hidden under her panties, stretching the fabric there to the point of breaking. Izuku pried open her lips completely, leaving them vulnerable to more of his manipulations. He smiled at her while he used his powers to bite, stretch, and nibble all along the petals that concealed her unexplored depths. The look on his face was smugly self-satisfied when one of his suction mouths grabbed and bit down onto her clit.

Ochako shuddered, utterly overwhelmed by the sensations Izuku forced into her body. He was driving her insane and hadn't even removed a single piece of clothing from her. What would he do to her once he had a chance to render her naked? Would he make her into a toy for his private enjoyment? She hoped so.

The first orgasm sent stars whirling through Ochako's vision. Her mind emptied. All thought ceased as convulsions of joy emanated from her epicenter and spread outward, rippling in her muscles and across her skin, setting her entire being on fire.

Ochako had never felt anything like it. In the span of that sensation, time was meaningless. The feeling lasted only a moment, but it also endured forever. This ecstasy exceeded anything she had ever done to please herself. Somehow Izuku had unlocked new depths and heights for her to reach, ones Ochako had never known were possible.

After it elapsed, everything was clear to Ochako.

Even as she worked her hands and mouth on him, Ochako could see that he was lost, controlled by his power. It wasn't just lust that affected Izuku, but something more primal and stranger. It spilled over to touch her as well, though its hold on her mind lessened now that she had come. If she didn't give him his release, he might not get a clear head to think through where they were, who they were, or why they were doing this.

Ochako felt it then. One of the tentacles was priming itself at her entrance, preparing to push deep inside. It seemed to swell and shift, growing thicker, blunter, as it struggled at the cave guarded by her lips.

"No," she breathed out a whisper. No, she prayed. I'm a virgin.

Everything stopped.

Izuku's face contorted with angry frustration. Wood cracked and metal bent under the power of his arms.

Please, she prayed as she returned her mouth to servicing him. Please, come in my mouth. I want to taste you. I don't want to lose my virginity in front of these demons, or to tentacles. I want you, I need you, but please, not like this.

Tears welled in her eyes as she allowed herself to concede that despite her desire to give Izuku anything and everything, to thank him during his short life on Earth, that even she had limits, things she did not want to do.

Her heart fluttered with relief when she felt the tentacle withdraw. It still teased at her entrance, but it never pushed further. That relief was short-lived when she felt her other entry get teased as well. She looked and saw a smirk return to Izuku's face. Ochako knew then, that while Izuku had enough sense to respect her boundaries, that he'd continuously push to find out where those boundaries were.

Not there either, she thought in his direction as he teased her there, that forbidden zone. She had never touched it that way.

He smiled as she felt him bite hard on the surrounding skin. Ochako moaned loudly over his cock, the vibrations of her voice traveling up and down the shaft. Fine, she conceded, but nothing inside anywhere but my mouth.

Izuku released a satisfied "Humph" sound before adjusting his hips, guiding just a few more centimeters of his cock into her mouth. Ochako got the hint and gripped him harder, using the combination of saliva and her nectar to create deliciously tight friction for him. At the same time, he mercilessly teased her breasts, her lower lips, and, despite the battle he had conceded, the entrance to the one place she hoped he'd never breach.

She worked hard, her grip tight as she stroked him, milking him for all he was worth. She was focused on her task, sucking hard on the crown. Ochako moved at a feverish pace, desperate to make him come, as though she needed Izuku's seed for her survival. It was a race, then, to see if she could bring him to climax before he brought her to her second crescendo.

Ochako lost the race. Izuku had unfettered access to far more of her pleasure points, while she was working on just his primary sexual organ. Admittedly, his cock had a lot of areas she could explore and lavish with attention. However, Izuku had outflanked her and expertly toyed with her entire body. He deftly manipulated her breasts and explored the landscape of her skin. He roamed boldly, claiming territory across her torso and ass. Izuku relentlessly assaulted Ochako, laying siege against her lower lips. The hidden jewel that her petals concealed gave in to Izuku's licking and biting attacks. No matter what she did, Ochako experienced more pleasure than she could give.

As her body convulsed with starlit explosions of joy, as her mind emptied again, she knew that sex with Izuku was the best thing she had ever experienced. It left her wanting more of him. She redoubled her efforts, determined that she would taste his release.

The third time was, indeed, a charm. Izuku groaned out an uncontrollable exclamation, warning Ochako of his impending orgasm. For the final stretch, she tightened her fingers even more and sucked harder until she tasted his seed. Taste, though, did not describe it. It felt like static electricity traveled from the tip of his cock into her mouth and throat, tickling her as it moved effortlessly down into her core.

It spilled out beyond her lips, coating her chin. More burst forth, surprising her already full mouth. It spilled down onto the ground beneath her as well as the front of her uniform. The substance glowed like the sunset on the sea.

Ochako was more awake and alert than if she had spent an hour drinking coffee, more energized than if she had stuck her finger in a light socket. Was this the power that had affected Izuku's mind? It left her wanting more, hungering for more sex. Or perhaps food. Or battle. It was a compelling urge to act, to exert oneself, to dominate.

She reached forward to hold onto him, to grip onto him and climb her way into his lap. She desperately wanted to be in his arms, whether or not that meant getting impaled on his length. It was as though he was the gravitational center of her existence. Ochako was falling towards Izuku just by looking at him.

This time, Izuku did not stop her. He directed her with his newest appendages to sit astride one of his thighs. His deflated weapon lay across the other. The tentacles vanished as Ochako settled into the peace of his embrace, leaning onto his chest while her legs dangled between his, never touching the ground. His hand rested behind her back, applying no pressure. He treated her as if she were the most delicate and breakable doll in the world, fearing that the slightest press of his fingers would crack and ruin her.

She was tired and energetic, wanting yet satisfied. Ochako had only one part of her that wasn't contradictory: she was in love, and she was loved. She was disappointed when Izuku's clothes rearranged themselves, hiding his cock from her view as his pants reknit themselves into a seamless garment again.

Then a voice spoke from out there in the darkness, uttering words Ochako did not understand. Izuku's muscles tensed under her. Whoever it was, whatever they said, had him on edge. Ochako turned her eyes outward, daring to gaze at and acknowledge the demons nearby.

That was when Ochako saw Mara step into the light, looking as beautiful and as cruel as she remembered. The creature still appeared to be a woman in classical attire. Ochako boldly maintained eye contact with her from the comfort of Izuku's lap. Ochako smiled at her while daintily gathering some of Izuku's glowing seed from her chin and atop her breasts. Once she collected enough to light up her entire hand, she licked the warm starlit substance from her fingers.

From the corner of her eye, Ochako saw that Izuku's teeth bared menacingly. His eyes were like daggers. No matter what happened next. Ochako would rather be there with her lover protecting her than anywhere else. Ochako's smile endured despite her eye contact with several demons, including the hollow abomination and his cloak of faces. Izuku was her lover, and there was nothing any of them could do to change that. No matter what happened next, none of them could take that from her or him.

{}

Izuku had been tormented for far too long, teased, and used while left wanting. Ahalmahlhat, for all of her beauty and generosity, seduced him with the sole aim of transforming him into the Prince. He still loved her, but he also saw her now for what she was, a demon on a mission.

Cecelyne had taken liberties with Izuku's mouth but had never thought of returning any pleasure as thanks. It was a completely one-sided affair, more about power than intimacy.

Only one person had considered what Izuku wanted, needed, and devoted herself to fulfilling those needs. Ochako.

He was surprised by just how much sensation the tentacles returned to him. They were so flexible, so customizable. He could give them as many or as few nerve endings as he wished. Izuku would have to test out just what else he could alter about them later.

Despite how wonderful it would have felt for him, how mad with urge fueled lust he was, he had to stop himself. Ochako's heart begged him, no, and he loved her too much to ignore that. That didn't mean that he stopped altogether. He pressed on any border that she erected, never crossing the line but thoroughly testing it.

After emptying himself into her mouth, on her lips, and across parts of her face and neck, Izuku thought that she looked beautiful. Soiled, used, but also wholly his. She was adorable while licking up his seed. If not for the sudden intrusion, he'd have kissed her and started their bout all over again.

Mara approached, daring to step into the light of the Chrysalis. "That was an entertaining show, my Prince. It's a shame, though, a terrible pity. That mortal is going to die soon. You seem so attached to her."

Izuku could not make words, could not make a sound. Rage rattled inside of his chest, shook at his ribs like they were a cage, forced his muscles to tense in anticipation, yet he could not muster a sound. He was simply too angry to sort out what insult he wanted to use in his reply.

Calming himself just enough, he finally growled back. "Explain yourself, Mara."

The demoness smiled demurely at him but said nothing.

Somewhere in the distance, far to their north, Izuku saw the faint flashing of light, like a brilliant star. Yet it was moving against the dark surface of the Earth, sputtering… No. Izuku could read Morse, and he knew it implicitly now. His mind sped up, fueled by potent essence.

Bombs. The military was going to bomb the mountainside. Japan had invited America to intervene. The aircraft formation was about to take off. Narita. That was so close! They'd be here almost instantly once they were airborne!

"How long have you known this was coming, what the humans were going to do?" Izuku demanded, directing hate from his eyes at Mara, despising the small smirk on her lips.

"Known?" Mahbagodeth gloated, his voice cracking through the air like a whip. "We did not merely know. I have manipulated every piece on the board and dictated every move the humans have made. Soon, they will break the truce in their folly, even killing some of their own in the process…" he gestured to Ochako on Izuku's lap as though she were a piece of trash the Prince had found on the road. "Then, when they complete their show of force, their futile efforts? We will act. We will slaughter them all."

Izuku had no time. He had choices to make, and it was impossible to weigh all the facts. His mother was immaterial, so she was safe. There had to be a way out of this. "They've not taken off yet. We can still stop the attack."

A sound like a broken windchime emanated from the demon's mask. Laughter. "Of course, my Prince. We could preempt them, attack them. You would, though, take on your mother's debts to Cecelyne."

Izuku growled despite himself. These monsters were manipulating events all in some effort to place even more control on him, to leash him to their will. Fine. Izuku couldn't save all those pilots. He couldn't even keep everyone in the city alive. Fine!

If he couldn't save them all, then he'd focus on the one that mattered the most. Izuku tried not to sound desperate, but he failed. "Take her, make her immaterial. There's still time."

The laughter, as jarring as it was, stopped. Somehow that was worse. Mara's smile grew broader, yet she conceded the stage to her masked compatriot.

The mask gave no hint of emotion, yet Izuku could sense sadistic pleasure in the demon's words. "No, my Prince. We are here to protect you, but we are not your personal army. We do not take orders from you. Though, if you request it of Cecelyne, perhaps she will order me to save this," the demon pondered the correct word, "slave of yours."

Again, they only offered him the trap of more debt, more chains to tie him to the Yozis, and their will. Every move they had made since arriving on Earth had been with that purpose in mind. How long ago had they planned all of this? "So, my choice is to have you attack the oncoming craft or to save this woman… and both end the same. Either way, I am in debt, and the humans, my future slaves, die."

Mara sighed, allowing her smile to fade into a frown. "You're a terrible liar, Heretic Prince. We know she's not your slave. We know none of them are. Perhaps the Prince, when he emerges, will be different. You, though? Your mind is almost completely, disgustingly, human."

Izuku had the sense to at least appear offended. "You dare speak to me that way…"

Her eyes flashed with dark intent. "Do you deny your Heresy, my Prince? Do you deny being the emanation created by Heresy, for that matter? Do you deny being an emissary, merely a Prince by proxy? No. You can't. The evidence is all around you, and still, you perform as though to stall us. It is not you who have been fooling us, little Prince. Things are quite the reverse."

Mahbahgodeth crept forward, interceding between Mara and Izuku. He held up his hands placatingly, but his words brought no comfort. "Give up your defiant will, my Prince. The Primordials won long before you even knew what Heresy was. You have still been thinking linearly like a human, forgetting that Malfeas is in the past… along with the rest of your soul."

The demon paused as the implication of his words sunk into Izuku's mind. Then, while the Prince's proxy remained off-balance, the monster continued. "We were sent here after you entered the Eternal City. We know everything that happened on the sands of Cecelyne and have accounted for your defiance in advance. It's not too late, though, little Prince. You can save them all from themselves, but only by abandoning this folly. You've entertained such dangerous games up until now, but it is time to submit yourself completely to the Primordial Host."

Cruel yet unexpressive, the demon advanced closer. Ochako shuddered and shrank in Izuku's arms, hiding her face in his neck. What's going on, he heard her heart ask him. His arms moved instinctively around her to shield her from the approaching threat.

Mara looked out across the horizon with an air of boredom. "No matter what you do, dear Prince," she smiled. It was the kind of smile that only eager avarice could produce, a smile of greedy anticipation. "We will conquer and dismantle this world. It's all a matter of when, not if, it happens. Fear not, though. We will only do to the humans what atrocities they've already done to each other."

It was the hollowest promise Izuku had ever heard. Was there any evil humankind had not yet explored? No. The demons would not be inventing new horrors, merely revisiting crimes repeated throughout human history. Izuku's grip on Ochako tightened, wanting some way to keep her and everyone else away from these vile beasts.

The masked demon pressed further, striking Izuku's emotions while the young Prince was still off-balance, still recovering from the last assault. "Now… pray using the gift on your forehead, and Cecelyne will answer you. Pray and save the woman in your arms. Of course, you could always just cut the chains on your heart and do away with your human emotions for her. It will make it easier to endure when you watch her burn into ashes."

There it was—the terrible choice. Izuku could become a monster and watch Ochako die, or he could sell himself to a monster and save her. Either way, their act was over. They had fooled no one. He cupped her face in his hands and looked down into her eyes. Those large brown eyes of hers filled with unspilt tears, swimming in confused fear.

Izuku kissed her, softly, feeling her lips quiver and her jaw shake. His face became wet with her tears. He knew what he had to do. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, knowing that this explained nothing despite being the only words yet spoken that she'd understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can all tell, this chapter took far longer than I estimated. It was originally meant to be the second half of the chapter I posted before. So, what have we learned? Well, the moral is that I have no idea how long things will be when I initially outline them.
> 
> The outpouring of love you've all given me, my wife, and this fic has been heartwarming. Before I continue with my notes and announcements, I'd like to share a message that my wife prepared as a thank you for all of the get-well wishes you all wrote in the comments of the last chapter:
> 
> "Hi All,
> 
> First, just let me say wow, and thank you, guys! It really warmed my heart to read so many many words of healing and encouragement from you all! Dark did an amazing job taking care of me while I was down, and with that and a few weeks of some strong antibiotics, I'm pretty much all healed up! Thank you all for thinking about me, and thank you for supporting Dark through his crossover Odyssey! It means a lot to know that his fans love Dark's word weaving as much as I do!
> 
> Peace, Love, and Cookies,
> 
> K-Chan"
> 
> So, as she put it, she's almost completely better and back to her old self. This has been the first chapter she's been able to help me with in a long time, and I'm truly grateful to have her by my side.
> 
> In addition, you all have been the best! Thanks to all of you, we have 288 Reviews, 142,957 Views, 640 Favorites, and 785 Followers on FanFiction dot net! You all also gave us 185 Subscriptions, 11,860 Hits, 328 Kudos, 340 Comments, and 81 Bookmarks on AO3! Because of this, we' are (for now) the top Exalted fic on AO3 in all major metrics: Comments, Kudos, Hits, and Bookmarks! To be at the top of any fandom, even one that small, is very humbling. Thank you. All of you.
> 
> Now for some announcements! I'm going to play a bit of catch up with the companion fic, "The Reflection in the Viridescent Mirror" so that it's not quite as far behind this fic in viewing. Those chapters are fairly easy to write, so I hope to churn out at least three in quick succession! Another companion-fic is in the works as well, though it's more of a spin-off than a direct companion. For those of you that enjoy lighter fare in their fanfiction, prepare for wholesome teenage hijinks in "Izuku's Time-Travelling Babysitting Service!"
> 
> That's not all! I'm finally making some progress on my book, the one I initially wanted to write before a case of writer's block had me writing fanfiction instead. It won't be out anytime soon, but I'm excited to finally be making any progress at all.
> 
> I have saved the best announcement for last. You are all invited to my Discord Server: Darklogic's Writing Corner! This would not be possible without the hard work of my friend AABHAS. Seriously, everyone should have a friend like him.
> 
> The link is here: discord .gg/ 25BTet3 (Copy and paste then remove the spaces. Certain sites don't like it when people post links to anything.)
> 
> Thank you all again and see you soon!


	27. Hero

The plan germinated in Katsuki's brain, growing from a tiny seed the moment he took stock of the portal-Quirk's potential. This was it, the one and only way to save Whaleface. He needed to stop thinking like a hero for this plan to work.

The villains and their monster-pets below were chasing and cornering their prey, but Katsuki could turn this around. He and Shitty Hair could dive in and save the day. That, however, wouldn't be good enough.

He had to embrace the thought patterns of a villain. They'd need to kill if they wanted to make their threats credible. Otherwise, holding one of the villains hostage would be meaningless. It was the only way to compel the other villain to comply.

He'd often shouted "Die" as a battle cry, but now that Katsuki was confronted with his own resolve to take life, something crystallized inside his heart. It didn't feel heavy, but sharp, like he was about to cut part of himself away to carry out this mad plan.

"Shitty Hair," he called out, roaring his voice to be heard over his explosions. He spoke his thoughts out loud as the plan formed in the base of his skull. "If I launch you down at the Burning Man, the fucker on fire, you can take it out, right?"

Saying "it" somehow dulled the blade inside him, like they were putting down an animal.

Sticking onto his back like a gigantic koala clinging to his body, Shitty Hair was doing his best to ignore how high they were going, or the fact that they had no wings, nor any other method of falling safely once Katsuki ran out of sweat.

"Fuck yeah, bro, I can do it!" the shark-toothed grin he returned to Katsuki would be endearing under other circumstances, but they were about to risk their lives. The guy's eyed betrayed his fear, but the moment passed. This was not the time to get soft.

"Can you kill it?" Bakugou asked grimly.

The redhead's smile vanished. Shitty Hair considered the thought for only a moment. "Yes," he shouted. "I already killed one of them. What's one more, right?"

Katsuki regarded the edge of sadness in his battle-brother's voice. He'd taken human life, though it was twisted and monstrous. That still took a toll, didn't it? "Just one more, and that means there'll be one of them for each of us. I'm going for Mr. Handsy over there. Portal Gun seems bent on saving his ass, so he's the leader."

"Wait, won't that mean you're up two against one? Let me help, bro," the redhead said.

"No time, go get him!" Katsuki called out as he pushed Shitty Hair downward with one arm while detonating an explosion upward with the other, launching them both towards the building below. Katsuki slowed his descend after shoving the dye-job deputy away.

All that was left was to take the leader hostage so that they could hijack a portal to a hospital. Simple, right?

Katsuki grinned as he readied to fight. As long as it was to save people, this was the right thing to do. That didn't mean he couldn't at least try to enjoy himself.

After all, this was part of his promise to be a better hero.

"Right, Deku?" he asked, almost whispering before propelling himself towards his target.

{}

As Inko looked over the abandoned parking lot, she obsessed over a single thought. Izuku was here, not even that long ago. Her son was alive. Despite the harrowing circumstances, she smiled when she saw his written apology etched into the side of a decimated vending machine.

"Relieve yourselves and replenish your energy," Sondok commanded the two prisoners. Oh, certainly, the alien woman was more polite when addressing Inko, but it was clear that "guest" was just a platitude for what Inko truly was to them.

All Might wordlessly knelt among the strewn snacks and candy bars, picking and choosing for nutritional value most likely before moving on to collect drinks. As his fingers picked up each item, sand coalesced at the point of contact before falling onto the ground. This reminded both Inko and All Might that they were immaterial, but interestingly that didn't leave them as unable to interact with the physical world as they'd guessed.

The neighboring machine kept soft drinks and various kinds of flavored water, but the broken window meant that the beverages were cool at best. None were cold anymore. By the time the beverages transitioned to an ephemeral state for their benefit, they were warm.

"Thank you," Inko said to him as she received his offering. Three fruit-filled bars, some granola, and water. He also gave her the only candy bar he'd picked up.

All Might smiled for her, expressions and gestures being the only form of communication he was allowed until Sondok's burning temper subsided. The black chains connecting his neck, arm, and legs clanked and jingled with each step he took. His burnt stump was painful for Inko to look at.

After a break to the public restroom, the two sat on a bench to eat their makeshift meal in silence. Sondok did not join in. Did her species eat? What did they eat? Inko wasn't sure she wanted the answer.

Instead, she allowed her eyes to settle onto All Might's determined expression. She could see the wheels turn inside his head, and desperately wanted to understand his thoughts. Was he planning their escape? Was he assessing the enemy? What was going on in there?

There's wasn't a way to ask, not without their demonic captor overhearing. Still, maybe, with just a bit of circular conversation, she could surmise if he had a plan.

"You know, for a long time, I was jealous of you," Inko said wistfully after a sip of her water. "My son watched videos of you every day. He wouldn't go to bed without seeing a video of you rescuing people. At that age, most mothers try to read a bedtime story to their son, but all mine wanted was to idolize you."

All Might turned his body towards her and nodded. Perhaps he was desperate for human conversation, or maybe the topic sparked something in him. "His room looked like a museum of All Might merchandise. I said no to the worst possible expenses, but Izuku usually got what he wanted out of me, and what he wanted was more of you in his life."

Resentfully, Inko avoided looking at Sondok as the monstrous woman strode past them, pacing like an impatient animal in its cage. "In the note he wrote to me before he left, Izuku admitted that he wished I'd encouraged him, that his father was still around. He never talked about those feelings before. Now that I look back on it, I think he was filling that hole inside himself with an idea of what you could be to him in another life. He was focusing on you to make up for how his father and I each let him down."

Inko was surprised when she felt All Might rest a hand on top of hers. The clinking of chains gave his movement away, yet somehow, he caught her off guard. Wordlessly his eyes told her that she didn't fail, that she hadn't let her son down. This wasn't the loud confidence of the hero she'd seen on screen, but the quiet determination of a man who, despite his missing hand and other injuries, was here to reassure her.

Inko turned her hand within his fingers before gripping his hand, hoping to return some of the comfort he shared with her. "He always admired the kind of hero you are, how you save people," she said, but what she wanted to say was how thankful she was that he was there with her, how having just one more person there with her made this all just that much easier to endure.

All Might's eyes tightened up at the mention of Izuku's admiration. Inko caught herself wondering just how badly this man had hurt her son, but it was impossible to be mad at him after everything he'd sacrificed in hopes of correcting his mistake.

Their one-sided conversation was just so frustrating, Inko thought. "Can he please speak with me?" she directed the question out to Sondok.

The red-eyed warrior regarded her charges before raising an eyebrow. "No," she said simply without elaboration. Just as Inko was about to reply, an impossibly loud gonging clamored down the mountain. The noise was sharp, metallic, yet rumbled louder than thunder. The air was thick with sound as if inundating them under a landslide.

Inko hurled herself into All Might's arms as she covered her ears. The man shielded her with his frail frame and limbs, holding onto her head with his only hand while extending his burnt stump somewhere behind her. Inko trembled in his embrace as twice more, the cacophony of noise murdered all peace and quiet.

A lone ape, decorated in greenish-gold armor, rushed down the mountain to them. It called out to its commander, and Sondok replied in kind. Inko felt every muscle in All Might's body tense as he strained his neck, watching the exchange with maddening interest. Was he reading their hand gestures and body language? There was no way he could understand their words.

Ashamed that she relied on him despite his condition, Inko pulled herself out from his reach and stood. She offered him a hand to help him stand, and he took it. One of his ears seeped blood, and knowing that somehow made Inko feel even worse.

With a gesture, Sondok dismissed the great ape back up to the summit. "Change of plans," she announced. "The Prince desires privacy, and we will grant it to him."

Before rising, All Might cast his gaze up the mountain. He focused on the crowd of demons at the summit. He sat there, unmoving, for what felt like a full minute. At last, with Inko's help, he stood next to her. He wasn't steady on his feet, though, and leaned in towards her for support.

"The demons aren't leaving the summit," he whispered to her. Then he backed off, standing on his own.

Inko felt the hairs on her neck stand as she took stock, confirming All Might's observation. So, she couldn't see her son, but the demons up there could. She feigned ignorance, though. "Privacy? Why would Izuku want privacy so suddenly?"

The warrior-woman regarded Inko coldly before shrugging. "The Prince is claiming his first female slave," she said as though describing a dull bit of daily news. "They do that sometimes. I find it's best to let them sate themselves. Your son seems somewhat reserved, even, claiming only one for his first."

Claiming. Inko knew immediately what that meant. It felt wrong for a mother to have this kind of information about her son. It didn't explain why the demons crowded themselves around him. By the look on All Might's face, he wasn't buying it either.

Sondok didn't give either of them time to examine the truthfulness of her words before grabbing each of them, gripping both humans on their shoulders. She pulled hard on them as she took a bold step forward, bending the world around them as they crossed an impossible distance with one step in lock with her.

They were no longer on the mountain. Somehow, they'd relocated at least a kilometer away into the yard of a fine house. The place was abandoned, likely evacuated within the past few hours, but that wasn't what concerned Inko. They were equidistant between the mountain to their west and a hospital to their east, which meant they were taking a significant detour on their journey to see Izuku.

"Why did you take us farther from my son? Why are we here?" Inko asked.

Sondok didn't answer the mother-regent. She simply turned to watch the mountain. The cold anticipation evident in the demon woman's gaze left a cold pit in Inko's stomach.

"Answer her," All Might said, standing defiantly as he addressed Sondok.

Inko regarded him with shock. Was his life worth risking for the answer to a simple question?

Sondok's lip curled with disgust. Then she composed herself and sighed. "I was ordered to keep you both away and dematerialized. I'm just following that order."

All Might, however, didn't buy it. He marched past Inko, closer to Sondok. "You could have kept us in that parking lot, then. Why the extra distance?"

Crimson starlit eyes regarded All Might, his emaciated weakness contrasting with his unconquerable defiance. "I am charged with your safety," was all she said.

The answer confused Inko, but All Might's reaction was something between horror and rage. "Safe from what?" he asked.

"Humanity," was Sondok's smirking reply.

Inko gasped, wondering what or who would make a move against her son. Even if someone targeted an attack against the demons, Izuku would be there at the heart of it. "Please," she began but didn't even know what to ask. "Please tell me Izuku will be safe."

Sondok resumed her gaze at the mountain. "The Chrysalis cannot be harmed by anything your people possess. The Prince's spiritual journey will continue unperturbed by any attack."

"What of the young woman with him?" All Might asked, an edge of fear creeping into his voice.

Inko turned her head sharply to look at him. She hadn't even thought of the girl despite surmising who the slave might be that Izuku was in the middle of claiming. She whipped her gaze back to Sondok. "Will she be alright?"

The demon shrugged. "She's a human and a slave. Does it matter?"

Inko grabbed onto All Might's shoulder before he could say or do something that would only get him killed. His face contorted with rage, breaking whatever composure he had left. "Don't," she said, calmingly as she turned him to face her. "Don't," she repeated while laying a hand on his chest. "Don't," she said one last time as her hand moved up to caress his face.

Something passed between their eyes, a spark. Their desperation fed a longing neither of them could describe with words. Inko and All Might felt the connection, however brief, but could not think about it now. Perhaps in another time, in another world, this spark could light something, but for now, it was as useless as flint and tinder under the sea.

Sondok's eyes flicked upward towards the sky. "It looks like the show is about to start," she mused. "I hope for a better display than the last world we conquered."

Inko broke eye contact with All Might, trembling as she moved past him to gaze at the mountain where her son lay waiting for whatever attack was coming. "Don't," she heard him say to her as he directed her face with his hand, prodding her to keep her gaze locked onto his eyes.

"Young Midoriya will do the right thing. He'll figure it out," he said, though a tremble in his voice made Inko wonder how confident he was in those words.

"He has a good example to aspire to," she whispered in return, praying that she was right, that they both were right, about her son.

Tiny shadows moved against the glowing backdrop of the sky above them, so small they might be mistaken for birds. Silently, they arced across the aurora-lit heavens, promising to test all their resolves.

{}

Tenya's body responded efficiently to his commands, yet his bones and skin felt alien to him. His eyes, while they saw with crystal clarity, seemed foreign. His brother's armor, while it fit him perfectly, was uncomfortable and awkward.

He wanted his brother back. Tenya, however, received the opposite of that request. Now he'd be reminded of his brother's absence every time he looked in a mirror, as an amalgamation of their faces stared back at him.

None of that meant that he'd throw away what Cecelyne gave him, especially since there would be no refund. The weight of his debt felt like a lead bar in his gut, but he received a considerable sum for that indebtedness. He had his brother's eyes and his Quirk in addition to the one he'd had since birth. Additionally, judging by his armor and how well he moved, his body contained Tensei's muscle-memories.

Perhaps he had enough power to make a difference now. These villains were undoubtedly a good test, but the real trial would be the demons invading their world. Could Tenya fight such monsters now that he had two Quirks?

He dismissed that thought for now.

Even with the weight of Inasa, Tenya outpaced the manmade monsters giving them chase. If not for the teleportation ability of one of the villains, they'd have outrun their pursuers some time ago.

There wasn't time now to think over how he got here, to ponder Cecelyne's parting words, or to let the guilt sink in. For now, all he could do was survive and help Inasa make it as well.

A portal opened in front of them just after he jumped to another rooftop. Swirling black energy gave way to fire as the self-immolating monster emerged.

"Fuck off!" Inasa cried out as he buffeted it back with a strong gust.

Tenya turned to avoid the portal and the monster emerging from it but knew this game wouldn't last. He couldn't maintain this speed forever, despite being enhanced by two compatible Quirks. If anything, that made his situation worse, as it tempted him to use up his internal reserves of energy on obscene displays of speed and power.

Another portal opened, only this time it was the hulking brute that was more mouth than monster. Tenya decided to charge the beast, kicking it hard against the event horizon of the portal. The creature sprayed blood at the point of contact, which fed Tenya's theory that the portals themselves were dangerous.

After learning just how dangerous the portals were, Tenya beat a hasty retreat with Inasa in tow. With four attackers chasing them, each with dangerous Quirks, the two of them were outmatched. The best course of action, as far as he could tell, was to escape to safety.

The enemy, of course, had a different plan for Tenya and his human cargo.

No sooner than after they moved to the next building over, they found themselves surrounded. As Tennya and Inasa looked about, each of the buildings around them had one of their pursuers deployed and ready.

Tenya heaved, trying to catch his breath. He'd run from rooftop to rooftop nonstop, losing all sense of time while adrenaline surged through his body. After stopping, even briefly, his exhaustion caught up with him. How long had this pursuit gone on? Half an hour? An hour? He wasn't sure anymore.

"Give up, hero," an ash-grey figure called out from across the street. "We've killed your work-partner, and you're next. You're hopelessly outnumbered."

"Kamui," Inasa called out helplessly. Tenya couldn't blame him. Kamui Woods was an admirable man. Learning about his death by hearing about it from his murderer was hard on him too.

For Tenya, though, there was an extra bite of guilt. If he hadn't been a fool earlier and prayed to Cecelyne, would Kamui Woods still be alive?

"Why are you going out of your way to pursue us? We didn't know about Kamui Woods. Why tell us?" Tenya called out, shocked by the sound of his voice. Even with the natural distortion of hearing the voice emanating from him as he spoke, Tenya was struck by how much he sounded like his brother. However, the tone was off. No, he realized. He was off. It sounded like Tensei's voice, but it was Tenya driving the pitch, the word choice, the tempo.

"It's a feeding frenzy," their ashen conversationalist replied. "I've tasted hero's blood, and now I want some more!"

A loud explosion rocked through Tenya's senses. "Eat this, motherfucker!" called out a voice from above. As Tenya looked up, a pair of small figures grew immensely larger as they descended rapidly from the sky above him.

The blonde figure, dressed in burnt casual clothes, descended onto the ashen hand-clad figure. A portal opened between them, but the blonde let loose an explosion from his palms, propelling himself out to the side away from the rift before unleashing another blast towards his original target.

A red-headed figure in finer, but even more ruined, clothes, impacted into the back of the burning monster on another rooftop. He landed with a downward kick, forcing his weight down with crushing force. Tenya tried to calculate how far the man had to have dropped to accelerate to such a degree, only to come to the conclusion that he was launched downward like a projectile pointed to the ground.

The redhead roared as he stood up from the mushy remains of the burning monster. It wasn't until that moment that Tenya recognized Eijiro.

Eijiro killed it in one hit, forcing all of his weight and kinetic energy into a single point. His pants and boots burned from the contact, but his rock-hard skin merely collected ash and cracks as he strode away from the corpse.

Tenya eyed the shadow-wreathed figure as he stood just one building away. The man, at least Tenya assumed it was a man, seemed stretched thin. He was activating portals to relocate the hulking brute towards the rock-hard redhead while also deploying portals defensively against the blonde's explosions against the ashen man.

"Yoarishi, I'm launching you to help out Eijiro against that monster. I'm going for the portal generator there," he instructed.

The shaved-bald teen looked at him with a moment of passing confusion, but he nodded to acknowledge the instructions all the same. Tenya moved immediately, suppressing his need for rest. He ran toward the edge of the building before using jets in his arms to launch the large teen across the chasm between buildings.

Inasa, thanks to Tenya's momentum, flew across that gap before applying his Quirk, controlling the winds around him and buffeting himself to a softer landing.

"Take no prisoners!" the angry blonde called out from two buildings over. He was loud enough to be heard with crystal clarity.

"Kill or be killed!" Eijiro replied, infected with the mood bloodshed was apt to bring.

"No mercy!" the two cried out in unison, as each joined battle against decidedly different opponents.

"No mercy," Tenya echoed quietly inside his helmet before rocketing towards his chosen adversary.

"I heard you died, Ingenium," the shadowy figure called out.

Tenya, rather than responding, moved in with a lightning-fast zigzag pattern, preparing himself for an inevitable portal somewhere in his way. He didn't expect two portals, one above his head and one directly in his path.

Diverting his path would be a trap since the momentary slowdown would let the portal above him envelop his head but entering the portal in front of him could be just as deadly. However, Tenya did not need to slow down just to change directions. That was a weakness he and his brother shared once, but for Tenya it was no longer a concern.

Igniting more precious fuel, Tenya rocketed past the two portals, diving in between them. Each narrowly grazed at him, but he rushed past like a well-steered ship among tide pools. A rocket-fueled punch to the shadow-man's face later, and both portals vanished.

Tenya didn't relent, striking the man hard over and over again. Maybe he was venting frustration or guilt, taking it out on another person when the man he hated most was himself. Maybe he was hoping the bloodshed would sate some primal thirst inside him, ease his mind after losing his brother and his body. Either way, his armor-clad fists coated themselves with blood as he let them feast on the man's face and torso.

The hollow screams of a mindless beast echoed across the rooftops. Tenya spared a glance, and for a moment, what he saw inspired panic.

Eijiro used himself as a human wedge, placing his body squarely inside the gargantuan mouth of the ravenous monster. Rather than be eaten, he stood defiantly, prying the creature's jaws wide open. Inasa took the opportunity to blow enough wind down the creature's throat that its lungs forcefully expanded.

The winds rattle down the monster's throat, creating a wholly unnatural scream. The beast's chest grew and grew, expanding outward as its lungs overfilled with air.

Then it popped. Rather, the abomination's lungs perforated with internal injuries, taking in too much air with too much pressure. Eijiro held his ground at the creature thrashed about, but it was drowning, bleeding out into its lungs. It would take a while longer to die, but the result was already written in stone.

Tenya refocused on the shadow-figure beneath him but was caught off guard when the man wasn't there anymore. A portal threatened to tear Tenya's hand off at the wrist, but Tenya pulled back just in time. Casting his gaze about, he found the shadow-figure across the divide, reappearing next to the explosive blonde and the ash-haired freak with a hand fetish.

Portions of the blonde's arms were bleeding where his skin was missing. Not torn, not cut, but missing. Now it was two against one, and the blonde looked haggard, running on rage more than energy.

Tenya dug deep into himself for more fuel, accelerating instantly to cross the distance at speeds he'd only dreamed of achieving before. Inertia tore through his gut and skull, demanding he never do that again. Despite his splitting headache and the pressure on his new eyes, he moved so quickly that he surprised everyone there, including himself.

Before anyone could react, he punched the ashen figure square in the shoulder. That, however, does not communicate what happened. When an object moves faster than most commercial vehicles are capable of, and that object has the mass of a man in full plate armor, the punch it delivers as it transfers energy from speed into impact is immense.

Time slowed down.

Tenya was shocked by the spray of blood as the man's shoulder broke, dislocating until it hung limply behind him. Forcibly moved to follow his useless appendage, the ashen man was carried two meters skyward before falling and rolling along the rooftop.

During his ascent, the man wearing too many hands struck Tenya across the face, activating his Quirk. As his helmet disintegrated around him, Tenya pause long enough to take it off, hoping the distraction wouldn't make him too vulnerable now that the blonde man was alongside him.

It never occurred to either him or his blonde compatriot that the ashen man would, in a desperation move, erode the rooftop beneath himself and sink into the top floor of the building. For that matter, where had the portal-forming shade disappeared to?

Tenya breathed in the cool night air, feeling it on his new face for the first time.

"I thought you died," the blonde said after Tenya got his helmet off.

"It's a long story," was all Tenya replied. "Is it over? Did they retreat?"

"We can't let them retreat," the blonde said, prowling forward, scanning the rooftop like a predator looking for hidden prey.

"What?" Tenya asked, genuinely confused by the idea of seeking combat where it wasn't necessary.

"Gang Orca's not going to make it unless we get him to a hospital," was the blonde's only explanation before unleashing an explosion against the rooftop access-door, blowing it off its hinges. Before Tenya could ask what the man's plan was or even his name, the musclebound man detonated his way to increased speed as he hurtled himself downstairs.

Tenya sighed as he ran after him, kicking against the wall of the stairwell to make his turn into a complete corkscrew, catching up in no time at all. He spared a thought to Eijiro and Inasa, hoping they were still alright.

Even as he hurtled down to find where his battle-eager partner had disappeared to, Tenya was haunted.

"Enjoy your new power, mortal," the pillar of salt said to him before sending him back. "I look forward to the day you'll use it for my purposes."

{}

After hearing a bit of noise, Katsuki blew a hole through the wall next to him. He stepped forward into a ruined apartment, not caring about the small fires he started or the destroyed furniture. His targets were inside, clumsily trying to relocate the shoulder of the ugly one. Katsuki decided to name him Ass Face.

"You stupid fucking brat," the man lost the hand that covered his face, revealing a visage worn away by stress, time, and agony.

"It's time to retreat," the miasma of darkness called out from behind his companion. "The Noumu are dead, and we have what we came for."

That's the one Katsuki needed, the one with the portals. He'd have to be extra nice to him to get his help, so Katsuki decided his name would be Shit Stain.

It looked like Shit Stain was the smart one, while Ass Face was the hothead. Katsuki knew how hot heads thought. He could use that. "Hey, you there. Ass Face. I see why you cover up with those hands. You're fucking ugly. Stick around and let's make you uglier."

"No, don't!" Shit Stain called out, but it was too late. Ass Face took the bait, charging in with only one working arm and no plan to his name.

Two things happened nearly simultaneously then. First, Rocket Man propelled himself into the room. Second, Shit Stain made a portal directly in Rocket Man's path.

At the speed he was moving, there was no way this guy could have avoided that portal. Katsuki was afraid that Rocket Man, er, Ingenium, was going to die or get seriously injured.

That's when the weirdest thing Katsuki had ever seen happened right before his eyes. Ingenium moved so fast that he vanished. There was nothing but a trail of sand leading from one side of the portal to the other, directly into Ass Face.

Katsuki stood there with a stupid grin on his face, he was sure of it. He didn't care how it made him look, because that was awesome. Ass Face was knocked sideways at an unhealthy trajectory, acting as a speed break for Ingenium's momentum when the Turbo Hero body-slammed him.

In just one motion, the villain was knocked out cold. Katsuki moved before either the other villain or the disoriented hero could act, grabbing Ass Face by his neck. "Hey, Shit Stain. Hold still unless you want Ass Face's head as a trophy."

The cloud of darkness stepped forward. It may have worn fine clothes, but they had seen better days. The man, though blurry from his Quirk, looked haggard. "I thought heroes didn't kill…"

Katsuki smirked. "I'm not a hero yet. I am, however, trying to save one. Here's the deal: you portal us over to Gang Orca, then take all of us to the hospital. After that, you and Ass Face here can fuck off to I don't care where."

The armored hero looked down at Katsuki with shock and horror written on his face. "He killed Kamui Woods. The man is a villain and needs to be arrested! He…"

"Saving people is more important than arresting villains! It's what a hero would do! It's what," Katsuki paused, inhaling hard. "It's what Deku would do!"

The villain warily regarded the hero and deputy as they spoke to each other. He took careful stock of the man he assumed was Ingenium. How was he alive?

"Who's Deku?" the armored hero asked.

"He's the guy you can thank for getting the demons out of the city," Katsuki spoke evenly, calmly. "He's the guy fighting by himself outside the city, trying to keep the rest of us safe while these shit-for-brains villains fuck shit up because they have the worst god-damned timing on the planet."

"You know the boy in the shell?" the villain spoke up, daring to bring attention back on himself.

"He's not a boy!" Katsuki barked back. "Deku's a better man than you deserve to think about."

Tears flowed from his eyes as he admitted that last bit. Damnit. "He's a better hero than we deserve!"

Than I deserve, Katsuki said honestly in his heart.

"So, what's it going to be, Shit Stain?" Katsuki asked. "You want freedom, or do you want me to kill your friend?" Sparks flew from the hand that gripped the back of Ass Face's neck.

Shit Stain raised his hands, symbolically surrendering. "You don't act like you even want to be a hero."

Katsuki smirked. "If I can save one, does that matter?"

{}

Demons are superior to humans in every way. Just ask them, and that's what they'll tell you. They boast greater strength, cunning, and infinite lifespans, whereas humans are feeble, dull-minded, and live barely longer than insects. Love, for example, is a human weakness they are fond of pointing out, exploiting, and deriding.

Ask Mara, the Shadow Lover, and she'll also tell you that "Love is a Lie" in no uncertain terms. It's a lesson she regularly carves into the hides of her dearest pupils.

When pressed, Mahbagodeth can produce many forms of literature about love but has no useful input on the topic other than how to exploit it wherever found.

If you ask Sondok, she will repeat one of the three great truisms of Malfeas, that "There is no love without pain." She refuses to elaborate further when asked for clarification.

Indeed, the demons are correct, yet they are so incredibly wrong.

Love is a lie we speak into existence, a decision in our heart to raise something, someone, up to become far more valuable than they ever could be unless we declared our love for them. We value them because we love them, and we love them because we value them. Within this unbroken circle, the lie that is love becomes true.

And yes, the denizens of Malfeas speak true. Love, inevitably, contains pain. Nothing lasts forever; neither love nor the people we love. Loss is unavoidable. That, though the demons don't understand it, is what makes love so remarkable: it is the celebration of beautiful, imperfect, and impermanent people and things. The pain, however profound, is a reminder of how wonderful the memories are before we, too, fade away.

Lies can become truth. Pain can contain joy. Though often exploited, love knows that it is vulnerable. It is a great paradox of the heart, a weakness worth fighting for.

For Izuku, this understanding filled him with a resolve unlike any he'd ever known.

Days ago, Izuku was alone on a rooftop, wishing for nothing more than an end to his pain. Now, he was at the mountain's summit, both physically and in power. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that he was Earth's only hope, the hero they needed against forces they all barely understood.

He wasn't alone, though.

Ochako trembled in his arms with tears streaming down her face. Confusion and fear played across her features, shifting rapidly from one to the next and back again. Although he wanted to comfort her, Izuku had other matters to attend. Aided by the power of Cecelyne, he calculated the odds of her survival with each possible decision before him.

To guarantee her survival, all Izuku had to do was surrender to the Yozis. The demons would act, readily trading the servitude of a Prince for the safety of one mortal woman. They'd render her immaterial, carrying her away and out of harm's reach where no bomb could touch her. She'd be safe, and humanity would be doomed.

Would Ochako forgive him? Would she be content to live in the safety of his palace while their planet was torn apart on the forge-fields of Malfeas? Would luxury be a strong enough opiate to dull that pain? Izuku wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers to these questions, as they might make him tempted, or might make him think less of her.

On the other end of the scale lay the decision that would doom Ochako. He could cut away his love for her like an infected wound, ensuring that humanity would still take priority in his heart while he stood defiant against the Yozis. The demons didn't expect him to take that course, but they likely had countermeasures in mind if he did. No, that course involved openly declaring his rebellion. It wouldn't save anyone, least of all, Ochako.

Was there a third choice?

He disregarded the confusion on her face and ignored her questions alongside the smug expression of Mara and the cold mask of Mahbagodeth. Izuku tuned his surroundings out as he calculated variable after variable, moving his mind at speeds the brain could not biologically sustain without Primordial essence.

He couldn't hide her within the time-sphere or the carapace of the Chrysalis. That would kill her. He could dismiss the time-sphere, but that would slow down Izuku's journey through Malfeas and endanger Earth with continued Calibration, drawing their world closer to the demonic realm. What would anyone gain if he did that? No, that course took too long and risked too much.

Moving away from the mountain wasn't an option either. The bombers would simply target the now-mobile Chrysalis.

There was no time, none at all. What was Izuku missing? What razor's edge did he have to dance across to make this work?

That's when Izuku struck it, the plan that would keep his soul independent of debt to the Yozis' while giving Ochako a tomorrow. The cost was dear, but there was no hesitation in his mind.

Ochako flinched as the crystal blade formed in Izuku's palm. It never felt so heavy to him before this moment. "Izuku, what are you…"

The masked demon's intrusive nature silenced her. "This is not the course I predicted, Prince Izuku, but then again, you have proven quite the aberration. Still, you will come to heel before our masters soon enough."

Mara raised a questioning eyebrow. "It appears you're not as stupid as most. So, will you cut your emotional ties with her first, or skip straight to slitting her throat?" The cruel bitch spoke with crystal clear Japanese. There was no way Ochako could have misunderstood her.

"Izu, please," Ochako pleaded, not knowing how things had changed so dramatically in such a short amount of time.

Izuku never gave Ochako the chance to finish that thought. He grit his teeth while holding the dagger between them. Ochako trembled like a rabbit dangling by its ears before the chopping block. "I love you," she whispered as fresh tears spilled from her eyes.

There was no time to comfort her. He could hear the oncoming aircraft. He released quick pulses of light down the chain from his heart, sending the message deep into the Chrysalis. He glanced briefly at the two demons and saw no reaction to his coded communication. Izuku almost wanted to smirk, now that he confirmed the demons couldn't read Morse.

That didn't make the next step of his plan any easier.

"No!" Ochako cried out, her hand shooting forward to stop him. He was faster and stronger than her, though. Before she could interrupt him, before the demons knew what he was doing, Izuku cut the chain leading from his heart.

It was not the chain that linked to his love for Ochako.

Izuku cut the link that bound him to the Chrysalis and the true Prince. The impact was immediate. Already, his near-infinite supply of essence was cut off, rendering him finite once again. His instincts demanded that he re-link the chain, or failing that, his urge for survival screamed that he must conserve his dwindling supplies of power and rest.

Izuku told his instincts to go fuck themselves.

The dagger dissipated in his grip, no longer needed, a waste of fuel. Standing, he grabbed onto Ochako before she comprehended what he was doing, before the demons could process the sudden shift in his essence pattern.

Then, with all the speed Adorjan had bestowed on him, Izuku ran. He sped past the demons, north and away, towards the blinking lights of a distant vehicle even as it flashed warnings of incoming danger.

The masked fiend uttered an alarmed cry while Mara darkened into an oily shadow, giving Izuku chase. The thought almost brought a smile to his face. How can a shadow outpace the wind? He slipped past her as quickly as a cheetah might escape a lion. One glance was all he needed to confirm that she wouldn't reach him or Ochako, not without leaving her minions vulnerable.

Behind him, Mara skidded to a stop. He felt the dagger-sharp hatred in her gaze but pressed onward.

That was one factor he counted on, that the lower level demons would be naked to the bombing run without intervention from their superiors. Devas were cruel enough not to care about casualties, but they weren't wasteful creatures.

No, it wasn't demons that Izuku needed to outpace, but time itself.

Izuku burst through the coronal edge of the anima, out into the twilight darkness of the world. The air he breathed no longer filled him with replenishing essence. Still, he gained momentum, hurtling himself and Ochako down the mountainside far faster than they ascended.

Inside his chest, he felt several Charms shut themselves off before dissipating into nothingness, unable to maintain their existence without fuel for their ephemeral reality. There wasn't any time to track what he'd lost. They need more distance.

"Izu!" Ochako tried to call out to him, but the wind carried her voice away as Izuku ran.

"I have you," he wasted enough breath to shout above the roaring wind as they rushed down the mountainside, hoping the phrase would convey the urgency of their situation to her.

"No! Izu, please!" she cried and beat her fist against his shoulder, but he ignored her. There was no time to stop, to explain, to apologize.

The ground beneath him flattened out before ascending again, moving up and down in curves as he passed among the foothills at the mountain's base. Trees zipped past them, observed one moment, and gone the next.

The wind felt like razors on his skin, like he was brittle and would chip away. Izuku squinted his eyes to protect them even as he felt the skin on his face crack and bleed away along with his exposed knuckles. He just hoped he wasn't too late.

Against the green backdrop of an aurora-lit sky, the world shone red as it cried with rage. Ochako's face lit up with orange-red fire blazing from somewhere behind Izuku. He already knew what it was without looking.

Then the sound and shockwave hit them. They were already moving faster than any human had a right to run, more quickly than a car speeding down the road, but the forceful blast of the bomb caught up to them as if they were crawling at a snail's pace.

The concussive energy lifted Izuku off the ground, preventing him from controlling his run. He had just enough time to re-angle his hold on Ochako before wrapping her in tendrils of energy. The look of pure terror on her face stabbed him like a knife into his throat.

"Close your eyes and hold on!" he called out to her, shouting so she could hear him.

Ochako ducked her face, burying it into his chest as he held her protectively. He rolled with their landing, softening the impact on her as much as possible.

His devil hardened body did not feel as invulnerable as it was just moments ago. The earth hit him like a team of sledgehammers, pounding onto him from below as he rolled uncontrollably, buffeted by the winds emanating from the mountain's remains.

"Keep your eyes closed!" he begged even as he scrambled back onto his feet. He ran again, ducking down as heat-treated rocks and dust fell around them. Several small pellets hit him in the back, tearing into him like bullets. He grunted but bore onward, willing himself to move despite the pain.

His will could only carry her so far, though. Pain caught up with him, as his starving body objected to the torment he inflicted on it. Izuku fell to his knees after running the second time, though he wasn't sure how far he'd made it. Was it far enough?

Lacking any strength, he dropped Ochako and collapsed. He fell back. He realized that he wasn't feeling any pain in his knees despite the odd angle of the fall. Of course, that's because his feet, shins, and now even his knees were gone. He'd laugh, but breathing felt excruciating as if he were gasping helplessly in an alien atmosphere of needles for air.

Ochako crawled over to him. Her collection of bruises increased in the past few minutes. Hopefully, nothing broke.

"Why? How? Why did you do that? Why did you cut away from the Chrysalis? Izuku! Izuku, stay with me. Stay with me, Izuku," she rushed through the words while propping herself up to look down into his eyes.

"There wasn't time for a good plan," he whispered, finding that was the only way he could talk. "I had to save you, no matter what," he said while reaching up to touch her cheek.

"You're the most important one here, you idiot," she wept, raining her feelings down on his face. She took hold of his hand against her cheek, but it dissipated into nothing.

"Don't leave me, Izuku, please, I need you," she begged. "I love you. You're my hero."

He smiled despite the pain coursing through his body. The edges of his limbs were evaporating. It felt like tiny paper cuts were traveling towards the core of his being. "All I ever wanted was to be a hero."

Tears of light formed in the corners of his eyes, wasting precious power on a display he could no longer afford. It was a sign of his impending end, that the Charm that kept his eyes dry no longer functioned. "Listen, Ochako," he started.

"Yes, Izuku?" she said, hanging on every word.

With his remaining hand, he directed her fingers onto, then into his chest. He was permeable. It wouldn't be long now. Her fingers inside him felt like daggers, but he had to ensure none of this opportunity was wasted. Wincing, he spoke through his teeth. "Take hold of the memory stone at my core. Protect it. Hide it. Don't let the demons get it. Keep it, and the one I gave you earlier, safe. He'll need both."

She nodded, knowing who Izuku was talking about. Ochako inhaled a long-labored breath. The jade stone was warm to the touch, freshly formed using the last power Izuku had left inside himself. "Please, please don't die," she begged.

"Do this for me," Izuku stressed the point. "I saved you because I love you. Do this because you love me."

There was no longer enough essence in Izuku's body to maintain his sight. The world darkened around him. Ochako's face was the last thing he saw before blackness overcame him. He gasped but kept his reaction contained. He didn't want Ochako's last memory of him to be one where he was consumed by fear.

"Ochako," he breathed. "Please, just stay with me a moment," he said, not wanting her to know just how afraid he was. He didn't waste his last moments uselessly begging for a life he spent minutes ago. The decision was irreversible and buying her safety, her life, was worth spending his.

"I'm here," she said before kissing his forehead. "I have you."

Izuku smiled. He wanted to reply, but he couldn't anymore.

The last motes of essence drifted away, and with them, he evaporated into nothing: no more light, no more energy, no more of his smirk or strength.

He was gone.

All that was left was a stone in Ochako's trembling hand. Snot dripped down her face, fueled by a never-ending river of tears. Her sides hurt, and her legs felt unsteady. More than anything, though, the wound in her heart was one that would never heal.

She fell in love with him, and before she knew it, Izuku was gone.

Unable to muster enough energy to stand, Ochako laid down on the soft ground and cradled the warm stone against her chest. "I have you," she whispered before her body wracked itself with deep sobs.

"I will always love you," she confessed to the cold night air. No one heard her, though.

Suddenly, heat surrounded her along with light from somewhere behind her. Ochako knew she should get up, that she needed to keep going, but Ochako was so lost and in so much pain that she wondered if it was even worth fighting anymore.

Strong arms picked her up, cradling her like a small child. She, in turn, cradled the stone close, holding it tight. Ochako opened her eyes to look up at a face wreathed in fire, but before she could say anything, she flinched at a slight pinching sensation. Then she, too, drifted off.

Ochako's last thought before unconsciousness overtook her was of Izuku, wondering if she'd see him in her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before everything else, a confession: I cried multiple times over the past several months as this chapter drew closer. I cried while writing this chapter. My wife cried while editing it. However, this was part of the plot for a long time. I knew this was coming, and that it was absolutely necessary for the story. So, if this upset you, please know that you're not alone.
> 
> Thank you, all of you, for your continuing interest in this and my other works. My wife and I are extremely grateful for your attention and encouragement. You've given this fic 305 Reviews, 849 Followers, 706 Favorites, 2 Community Listings, and 160,990 Views on FFN. That's nothing short of amazing. You've also given this fic 207 Subscriptions, 16,290 Hits, 409 Kudos, 140 Comment Threads with 439 Comments, and 144 Bookmarks on AO3. This fic has also earned me a number of new friends who I would never have met if I hadn't gotten into writing.
> 
> Just think: this all started one year ago. My first chapter was posted on September 2, 2019. I meant to sit down and write out a book that I'd outlined but was struck with a terrible case of writer's block. So, to get over that writer's block, I started writing My Green Sun Prince Academia, and I never regretted a single moment of it.
> 
> I've started a fair bit of other projects recently, but this remains my one central fic, the cornerstone of my fanfiction works. I'll continue with my rotation, continuing on to write more The Reflection in the Viridescent Mirror, followed by Izuku's Time Traveling Babysitting Service, followed at last by Midoriya Izuku vs. the Women of Sigma Epsilon Chi (S.E.X.). Then the rotation will start again, right back here where it all started in the first place. I may inject an extra chapter of Izuku's Time Traveling Babysitting Service here and there, but that will mainly be a way of fighting against distractions and schedule issues. So yes, my "catch up" rotation is done, and now we're on regular rotation.
> 
> One caveat: my wife's birthday is coming up soon, as is our anniversary. So around then, a period that contains the 11th and 14th, I'll not be writing or posting anything. I kindly ask you all to chill during that period. I'm also taking a short break from writing for the next two or so days just to catch up on reviews and comments since I'm majorly behind in answering people. I normally reply to reviews on FFN directly in the review section, and I've been so busy lately that it just never happened.
> 
> If you'd like to contact me more directly, feel free to pop in and talk to me on Discord. discord .gg /25BTet3 (remove spaces because FFN hates links).
> 
> Thank you again and see you at the next chapter!


	28. Oathbreaker

Stepping out of the portal, Tenya observed his surrounding cautiously. While wary of a trap, he wasn't prepared for the emotions he'd deal with instead. Camie lay next to a hulking figure, but what she held in her lap haunted Tenya to his core. Kamui Woods, or at least, his head, stared up towards Tenya with horrified-yet-vacant eyes. Kamui's mouth contorted into a grimace, one he'd likely wear until he could receive a proper cremation.

There wasn't time to think about the dead, though. Tenya decided to focus on the living.

Striding toward him, Tenya recognized the hero, Sakamata Kugo, on sight. Gang Orca was an imposing figure while standing. The prospect of carrying the man, though, was even more daunting. His mass was a more significant challenge than his height suggested. He knelt and surged power into his Quirk-driven engines, scooping the massive hero up. Kilogram after kilogram of dead weight strained Tenya's arms so much that if he hadn't relied on his new Quirk, he doubted what his body could do unaided.

The rest of their not-so-merry band arrived after Tenya's herculean effort was almost over. "What took you all so long?" he strained to ask. For that, he earned a chuckle, but he didn't see from who.

Their villainous companion said nothing and merely opened the next portal.

Wasting precious fuel on the effort, Tenya strode, step by laborious step, forward through the second portal. The first was a leap of faith, but the second was a trial by fire.

If not for the blonde, hastily introduced as Bakugou earlier, this plan wouldn't work at all. The ferocious-faced teen had a vice-like grip on the ashen-faced man's neck. Sparks flew now and then from the oily gaps between his fingers, reminding everyone of the hostage's impending decapitation should their transportation-villain get an inclination for treachery.

Stepping to the other side, Tenya was relieved and surprised that they were on the hospital's rooftop, not the base. It all made sense when he thought about it. The villain wanted to escape with his companion, and the odds of finding other heroes on the roof were slim.

He knelt once through, setting Gang Oca down as gently as possible. Their point man, the shave-headed air-manipulator, Yoarishi, nodded to him respectfully, deferentially. They still didn't know who he was. He was lying to them again just by keeping silent with the truth, not correcting them when they called him Ingenium.

The redhead, Eijiro, limped through while leaning on the fawn-haired woman, Camie. She cradled the severed head of Kamui Woods under her other arm. Those two seemed close, closer than when Tenya last saw them, but Tenya paid their chemistry no mind. After them, Bakugou arrived, the man with the plan. He still held his hostage with a perilous grip on the man's nape, even while holding him up much as Tenya was holding Gang Orca. The difference was that one passenger was heavy and precious to them all, while the other was a lightweight piece of filth.

At last, the dark miasma arrived, well dressed and unruffled as he always seemed to be. He didn't waste time on words but closed the portal behind them before opening a new one. He held out a hand towards the blonde and their hostage.

"Our deal. Honor it, if you would be so kind," the dark villain spoke with sweet venom in his voice.

With an angry but meaningful glare, Katsuki told Tenya to stand back up and get Kugo towards the stairs. Yoarishi stepped forward to cover one of the blonde's flanks, while the redhead, Eijiro, stepped free of Camie's support to protect the other flank. The three of them stared down the portal-villain, neither side blinking nor conceding ground.

Everyone expected violence, betrayal, and bloodshed. Both sides were sure the other would strike first. Tenya moved as quickly as Orca's mass would allow, building momentum with each step as Camie held the door open. He tried not to, but Tenya locked eyes with the severed head again as he passed by. Looking up to break the macabre staring contest, he saw that Camie's eyes were closed, focusing hard as she exhaled. Still, Tenya grit his teeth and moved forward, bearing up Gang Orca's weight as only he could.

Once at the top of the stairs, Tenya cast one glance over his shoulder and was immediately confused by what he saw. Eijiro was no longer standing next to Bakugou. Instead, Bakugou and Yoarishi were surrounded by over a dozen copies of Eijiro, each grinning with enough sharp teeth to give a shark pause.

The mist-bodied villain didn't budge, didn't flinch. He stood next to the portal he made and watched them, locking eyes on Bakugou.

Tenya didn't know he was holding his breath until his lungs complained, demanding air.

Bakugou stepped forward, breaking ranks with his allies. Tenya knew he needed to get downstairs, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Bakugou. As much as Tenya hated this plan, the man followed it meticulously, taking his duty seriously.

He was acting like a hero. That thought sent a shame-fueled shiver down Tenya's spine.

The villain strode forward, gliding across the rooftop towards the blonde deputy and his hostage. The unconscious man, detested by one, valued by another, rested briefly in both their arms as the two men shifted his weight.

Bakugou stepped backward, holding his hand out to his side, palms open. From anyone else, that would be a peaceful gesture. Coming from Bakugou, it was a threat.

"Go," the blonde barked out hoarsely.

Taking his companion with him, the miasma-shaped villain stepped backward into the portal, closing it without parting words or fanfare. The images of Eijiro shimmered and flickered out of existence, and everyone around the blonde sighed in relief.

Tenya watched him, transfixed as Bakugou stared at where the portal used to be. Did he regret letting the villains go? Would they all live long enough to regret this, or did it matter anymore?

The blonde spat on the rooftop; a thick wad of contempt summoned from the back of his throat. It landed where the portal used to be. "Let's go," he said to the others.

Tenya descended first, relieved that their combat trial was over. Still, he dreaded the prospect of what came next. A future? What kind? One without any sun or stars? One without his brother, or rather, with his brother etched into his body?

Tenya shook those thoughts from his head, resolving that Gang Orca deserved more attention than Tenya was giving the man. "Excuse me!" he shouted into the corridor. "We need a doctor for Gang Orca!"

He was shocked by the sound of his voice, but he didn't let those thoughts sink in.

Several nurses emerged from a break room up ahead, followed by three physicians. All of them looked tired, worn from the ordeal of a city that needed them.

One of them, though, was the most beautiful woman in the world. Tenya would recognize those light blue eyes anywhere. Those stark-angled cheeks, hair so pale a shade of blue that it seemed white, and a smile so faint it barely existed; these features and many more that invaded Tenya's mind would haunt him forever.

"Naomi," Tenya spoke her name louder than he intended, drawn to her by an invisible force he barely understood. Run to her, his legs told him. Hold her, his arms cried.

Kimishimi Naomi, though, moved first. "Tensei," she called out him as she strode towards him.

His brother's name stabbed through his heart like a frozen knife. He stood there, frozen with fear, wondering what to do next.

"I thought, I mean I heard," she uttered before her eyes took on deadly focus.

"Bring him this way," she ordered him with a mixture of professionalism and intimacy. "I need an extra-large gurney, now!" she shouted, and one of the nurses ran. Once the nurses brought it closer, Tenya and Bakugou worked together to set the extra-large hero on it securely. After the blonde stepped in, he glanced at the armored counterfeit-hero, offering him a look that asked if he was alright.

Tenya shook his head. None of them had time to check on psychological or existential concerns just then.

Yoarishi took hold of one side and Bakugou the other, while Tenya provided central thrust from the rear that propelled the bed forward to wherever Dr. Kimishimi needed. Eijiro limped along behind them, waiving off two nurses as he leaned on Camie.

As they pushed Kugo on the wheeled bed, Tenya was distracted by the near-constant thrum-hum reverberating through the building. It got louder as they moved westward through the building. They passed a large window, and a glance was all Tenya could afford.

The backup generators were working overtime to keep the hospital alive and running. Three buses were crowding themselves full of patients down there, making Tenya wonder how many patients were left and if it was possible to move any of them.

"Oh, my," Naomi uttered when her eyes settled on Camie and the head under her arm. "Oh, Kamui, oh," she moaned as she spoke, sparing a brief moment to mourn, yet not enough to catch up with the rest of them emotionally. They'd known about his death for the better part of several hours, but the good doctors here caught on just now while busying themselves, saving other lives.

Stepping up, another physician spoke to Camie, offering to take the severed head out of her possession. Tenya didn't listen to the full exchange and instead focused on Naomi as she kept directing the flow of events around them.

"In here," Naomi gestured them all in after composing herself. "You there," she pointed at Eijiro as he brought up the rear with Camie. "Let one of my nurse practitioners examine your leg while I run triage on Gang Orca. There's no sense ignoring an injury when you're in a hospital, and medical professionals surround you." She gave him a wink, inspiring his face to flush.

Turning back into the room, she offered Tenya a smirk before restoring herself into the cold and ruthless doctor she needed to be. Despite her evident exhaustion, the half-smile reached her eyes. Tenya was proud of her, not just for her accomplishments, but for still having an attitude that could toy with men half her age, to deal with trauma after trauma, and still find a way to smile. Still, he felt secure that she'd always be loyal to…

Oh no, he realized. I'm thinking like Tensei. I'm treating her as though she's my wife, not my sister-in-law. That illusion would dispel itself, he thought grimly. Once he took off his helmet, surely she'd figure out that it was Tenya under the mask, not Tensei.

What if she didn't, or if no one could tell? What then?

By the time Tenya broke himself from his reverie, Naomi had thoroughly examined Gang Orca, using her Quirk and training to assess the damage. Tenya was surprised when the angry blonde, Bakugou, stepped forward to answer Naomi's questions.

Tenya didn't hear what she asked, but he caught the answer. "One of the demons struck him here along his jawline. She poisoned him, but I don't think it's one you'll have an antidote for."

Naomi tested his pulse, temperature, blood pressure, pupil responses, and even examined his mouth before using a syringe to extract a small blood sample from his arm. The fluid in the syringe looked wrong, black instead of red. She left all of them with some nurses while she ran across the hall to her lab, her heels click-clacking on the laminated floor.

The room grew quiet in her absence, interrupted only by the sounds from the next-door examination. That was where another nurse put Eijiro and Camie, Tenya realized.

"I'm telling you, nurse. I can get around better without a cast than with one. See? I can Harden my skin to be tougher than my bones," he heard the tail end of the explanation through the open hallway door as Eijiro explained himself.

The silence in Naomi's absence roared in Tenya's ears. He feared what tomorrow would bring, what the new normal would be. Even if the world survived and moved on, he couldn't. Worse, Naomi had a ray of hope in her heart since he showed up, and it was his duty to snuff that light out and tell her:

Tensei was dead, and there was no way to get him back.

Naomi burst into the room. "It's worse than I thought," she declared. "His blood's thoroughly contaminated, and the longer it stays that way, the worse the long-term damage will be. Even if I performed a complete dialysis of his system, he wouldn't live long enough to get to the other side of the process. We need to perform a full-exchange transfusion immediately. Unfortunately, he's type-O negative, and we're out of artificial hemoglobin to hold him over. Is anyone here type-O negative?"

Camie poked her head in from around the corner. "I am, doctor."

Naomi nodded. "Good, you'll be the first up to give blood for him. We'll need at least five other donors if he has any chance of survival. Nurse Mitsuabe, please go through our paper records and see who among the hospital staff has O-negative. If you don't find anyone, go through patient charts. We can't wait for donors from outside the hospital, not during an evacuation."

"Yes, doctor," was all the woman said before running into the hallway.

"Meanwhile, Nurse Moroha, we'll need an ice tub for the patient. We have to slow down his metabolism and his heart rate to a crawl. After that, we'll send his blood to the lab for exo-dialysis. Get on it. You there, young lady, please sit over here. I'll hook you up. Don't worry, I may be a physician, but I'm often told I have nurses' hands," Naomi continued ordering the universe around her, compelling obedience through willpower and an uncontestable body of knowledge.

"Whoa, hold on now," Eijiro spoke up as he limped into the doorframe to stand next to Camie. "We just rescued you from a dangerous attack. Can you really give blood right now?"

"Eijiro, I'm fine. I'm probably in better health than I've ever been," she overrode his objections. "You should know. You helped me get better," she said before placing a soft kiss on his lips. The kiss continued as they lingered, prolonging their contact well past normal propriety, but they did not allow the kiss to grow in intensity.

Naomi set about her work, getting the needles and tubes ready while Eijiro and Camie got closer to each other, communicating orally but without words, Tenya observed. The two of them, uncaring who saw them, shared such a beautiful moment that Tenya didn't know if he wanted to disturb them.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow but said nothing, while Yoarishi blushed and looked the other way.

"You saved my life, Eijiro," Camie whispered to him as her forehead pressed against his. "Let me use what you gave me to save someone else's. I'll be fine, so don't worry."

"I," Eijiro started to say something. Tenya wondered what held him back, what made him hesitate. To all other eyes in the room, the connection these two felt for each other was obvious. Something, though, prevented them from enunciating how they felt for each other.

Eijiro held onto Camie's hand as she parted from him, releasing her fingers at the last possible moment.

Camie crossed the room to sit where Naomi directed the young woman. Though dirty and disheveled from their days of exhausting battles, Camie appeared calm, sedate, like this was finally her chance to just rest. She didn't flinch when Naomi cleaned her arm with alcohol or when she found the right vein and planted the needle inside. In no time at all, the bag at the other end of the tube filled with rich purple-red blood.

With Camie sorted, Naomi moved on to hook up Gang Orca to drain the poison from him. Thick black blood sludged forward into the tube, filling the pint-sized bag with painstakingly slow progress.

"Holy shit," Bakugou whispered. Tenya had to agree. Whatever this poison was, it thoroughly corrupted the hero's blood until it looked more like oil than anything living and organic.

Camie smiled as she used her free hand to gesture Eijiro closer to her. The two of them held hands as blood drained from her other arm. Neither of them said anything as they pressed their foreheads together. They smiled shyly when their noses touched. To Tenya, they looked serene, a stark contrast to the anxiety on Bakugou's and Yoarishi's faces or the determination in Naomi's eyes.

The bright flash of light outside was the only warning any of them had.

Tenya turned towards the window, his adrenaline urging him to kick into turbo drive, propelling him forward as he planted himself between the window and Naomi. In his peripheral vision, he saw Eijiro wrap himself around Camie as his body Hardened up like a protective wall around her. Tenya didn't have that luxury or the time, but he could use his armor and position to shield Naomi behind him and her patient.

The sound and shockwave came almost instantly after the bright flash. The building rumbled and creaked before the glass shattered inward, raining lacerating shards towards everyone in the room.

Tenya braced himself, kicking his engines on just to remain standing against the onslaught, hoping to block the worst of the conclusive force and debris with his armor while protecting everyone behind him.

Harsh wind and heat enveloped him, but to his relief, the worst pressure came from behind him. Tenya spared a glance over his shoulder to witness Bakugou unleash one explosion after another, redirecting the incoming glass away from Naomi and Gang Orca. Yoarishi helped as well, pushing outward with enough gale-force to scatter shards away from their vulnerable flesh.

Some glass made it through, but their teamwork prevented the damage from being overly severe.

Tenya turned to see in Naomi was alright. "Naomi," he called to her. "Are you hurt?"

He sighed when instead of checking herself, Naomi examined her patient first. "Minor lacerations, but no damage near the eyes."

"Naomi," Tenya said, keeping his exasperation in check. "What about you?"

She plucked a shard of glass from her hair only to discover it had several drops of blood on it. "Minor cuts, but no facial injuries. Nothing in my eyes. Sorry, old habits," Naomi shrugged.

Tenya glanced over to see that Eijiro and Camie had a similar interaction. However, with no professionalism on either part to restrain them, Eijiro checked Camie's body for injuries despite her protests.

"Doctor!" Eijiro called out, spotting the problem. There was, unfortunately, damage that needed immediate attention. Camie's body wasn't harmed, at least not severely. However, the pint-bag attached to her was cut open by a stray shard of glass. Her lifeblood dribbled uselessly onto the floor.

Naomi rushed over and replaced the bag on the line. The other pint, thankfully only partially filled, was already useless.

Bakugou and Yoarishi moved towards the window, gazing in horror at the spectacles outside. Tenya moved to stand alongside them, stifling a gasp.

The mountain was gone. Takao, the little sibling to the taller, more famous mountains deeper in Japan, was no longer there. Not dented, not damaged, just gone. A great pyre of smoke rose from an unseen fire, occluded by interceding buildings on the horizon. Ash and pebble-hail rained down around them, sounding off as they pelted the ground, vehicles, and of course, people.

"Fuck," Bakugou uttered. Tenya followed his gaze to look at the damaged generators below and the fallen buses filled with screaming passengers. Knocked on their sides, two buses lay like slain beasts, their human cargo pressed and writhing inside, calling out for salvation. Large red splatter-marks emerging from underneath told them that the vehicles crushed several people as they toppled over. Hopefully, their deaths were quick.

As if to highlight the severity of the situation, the lights in the room flickered before dying off. "Shit," Tenya heard Naomi curse. He innately knew that Naomi focused her frustration on the wellbeing of her patients. Without power, none of the machines needed for life-saving procedures would work. This disrupted not only the dialysis for Gang Orca but likely the immediate needs of dozens of other patients.

Without a word, Bakugou charged forward, leaping out the window. Tenya cried out but cut himself short when the man let loose a series of small explosions to slow down his descent.

Yoarishi leaped next, not to be outdone by the other deputy. "Wait for me!" he cried, summoning a gale of wind that buffeted his fall.

"Fuck you, I ain't waiting for shit!" cried the blonde over the sound of his detonations.

Eijiro limped forward, edging closer to the window. Tenya, though held up his hand, mustering all the authority his brother would have used in this situation. "No. Your heart is in the right place, but your leg is broken. If you want to help, stay up here and get your leg looked after."

Eijiro looked at him the way a wounded puppy would look, begging for some meaning or understanding for pain that it couldn't comprehend.

"Wait," Naomi interrupted.

She spared only a few moments to gather her thoughts. "You can still walk, right? Get a crutch from the nurse station down the hall if you need it. After that, make your way to the secondary building to our east, the Kanbe building. On the second floor, you'll find a patient in recovery. He's a young man, about your age. He produces electricity with his Quirk. See if you can work with him to restore power to the building. Even one hour of power could save dozens of lives, least of all Gang Orca's."

Eijiro's face transitioned from sorrow to joy as she spoke to him, providing him with meaning in this chaos. "Yes, ma'am, doctor, ma'am!" Eijiro marched out with a smile, relying on his good leg while dragging a Hardened leg along for the ride.

The redhead turned to make eye contact with Camie one last time before departing into the halls.

"Don't worry about me, you big muscle-head. You go be a hero, one without a distraction like protecting me, you hear?" she called after him.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "You got it," he said on his way out.

"Is he the best suited for this job?" Tenya asked her.

Naomi shrugged. "You'd get there faster, but I know you want to help everyone below. I'd rather you do that. After all, a lot of them are my patients, too. Check on him after you rescue those people?"

Naomi placed a hand against his breastplate. The intimacy of the gesture sent his pulse racing. Before he could stop himself, he rested his hand atop hers.

Tenya struggled to find the right words. Should he tell her the truth? Of course, he should. When? When was it fine to rip her heart out and send her into mourning?

"Naomi," he started, thinking that perhaps it was best to rip this off like a bandage. "I," he swallowed, though there was nothing but nerves urging the impulse.

"I love you," she said. Her eyes burned through Tenya's armor and into his heart with how much love he saw in them. There was a mountain of unspoken words hiding behind them. I was afraid I lost you, her ice-blue eyes said to him. I was so lost, so alone, and so scared. I endured, performing surgery after surgery, all just to bear through the pain of losing you.

Tenya hated himself. "I love you too," he said.

Naomi raised herself on her toes to place a kiss on his helmet. "Go," she said. "They need you down there. Just promise that you'll come back to me."

Tenya squinted his eyes shut, burying the pain inside himself where she couldn't see it. "I promise," he said.

Before he could stop himself, Tenya moved his gauntlet-covered fingers to caress her cheek, wishing he could feel how smooth her skin was. "I should go," he whispered.

"Yes, you should," she said back with a smile.

Tenya let his sister-in-law go even as he reminded himself what his relationship with her was, what it was supposed to be. He turned and dove through the window, out into the chaotic world below. His quad-engine in his legs and arms served to steer him, to guide his descent.

The madness below would be a good distraction from the turmoil in his head.

When he told her that he loved her, he meant it. That realization made Tenya hate himself more than ever before.

{}

Naomi watched her husband leave through the window, just as dashing and daring as he'd ever been. She didn't understand it, how it all came to be, but her heart soared with relief. She wasn't a widow. Alyssa wasn't an orphan again.

Naomi set herself back to work. An empty tub arrived, much too small for her patient, but it would have to do. Ice followed. Despite the lack of power, the hospital staff continued their work. Pints of poisoned blood were set aside, ready for the moment power came back on. In the meantime, flashlights and electric lamps served as they pored over records to see if they could find more donors.

There was too much to do.

As the nurses and orderlies moved Gang Orca into the ice-tub, Naomi removed the needle from Camie's arm. "Thank you for donating," she said.

Naomi looked into Camie's brown eyes for the first time since the others left. Until that moment, she never asked why the young woman remained silent after everyone else left. Naomi felt waves of sorrow and pity was over her as she locked eyes with Camie as if these were the saddest eyes in the world, but all the sadness wasn't Camie's, but hers.

Naomi was instinctively afraid, but she had to ask. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Several tears loosened their hold on Cami's lower lashes, spilling down her face. Her lips trembled. "Doctor, there's something you should know."

{}

Voices erupted from their radio interspersed with screams of static while Midnight focused on driving. However loud the radio was, it barely registered compared to the noise from outside. Hard chunks of heated earth rained down like hail from the sky, pelting their car hard. The windshield accumulated long winding cracks with several hard impacts but held firm against the onslaught for now.

Momo briefly wished that Mei never hacked the military radio signals, but then again, she knew that wish was selfish. Turning away and closing her ears wouldn't stop the death and suffering around them. Still, she hated hearing the pilots as they gloated to each other about the massive explosion.

Somehow, Mei gave their gigantic touch screen a satellite view of what was happening. The aircraft above them flew in a tight formation as they flew west past the destruction they just caused. Mt. Takao was obscured by a massive smokescreen that wafted north by northwest due to incoming wind from the sea. Midnight stuck to that route, preferring to drive under the assumption that a smokescreen would hide them.

I wonder if they're proud of themselves, Momo thought bitterly as the pilots whooped and hollered at each other. She ground her teeth against each other when she reminded herself that they almost killed Ochako. Momo wondered if Izuku was still alive.

"Izu," Ochako pleaded, caught between consciousness and the delirium of whatever dream she found herself trapped in.

Momo tried to relax her jaw while securing Ochako's outstretched hand in her grasp. While focusing on her fingers, Momo manufactured a makeshift glove. She hated that this was the reward for Ochako's bravery and sacrifice, to be strapped down as their vehicle tore through the hills and away from the wreckage that used to be Mt. Takao.

"Hush, now," Mina cooed as she wiped a wet washcloth over Ochako's forehead, wiping away soot and cleaning a long scrape that etched down her temple.

Both deputies, for all the rescues they'd accomplished alongside Midnight, could not contain their emotions when they found Ochako in Endeavor's arms. He glowed like a beacon, drawing their vehicle closer despite the chaos raining down relentlessly about them.

"Take her and get her out of here. Her survival is a top priority," was the only greeting the number-two hero offered them after Midnight brought the car to a halt.

Midnight and Mina rushed out to cradle Ochako in their arms, but Endeavor didn't release the young woman just yet. Instead, he walked quickly to the passenger side with Midnight trailing behind him. Momo busied herself, producing bandages and other supplies after eyeing the damage Ochako endured.

"She's the only witness to survive prolonged contact with multiple enemy commanders and their hostage. We'll need her testimony of what happened here. Our survival depends on it," he spoke stiffly, grimly, as he placed Ochako into the vehicle.

Ochako clutched outward towards him, her eyes sealed tightly shut, but her hands grabbed at empty air. She looked angry, heartbroken, but determined.

"We'll take care of her. Uraraka deserves it," Mina supplied.

"Uraraka," Endeavor repeated, enunciating the name deliberately, methodically. He fastened her seatbelt for her.

"She needs medical attention. I can take her," Midnight thought aloud but was cut off.

"Don't prioritize the nearest hospitals. Get Uraraka beyond the checkpoints and out of the province. Take her as far north as Koga if you have to, just get her away from here," he spoke with grave urgency.

"Alright," Midnight said stiffly. "As far as possible, agreed."

He nodded to Midnight and took off into the sky after receiving a return of the gesture. He didn't say where he was going. None of them asked. The two women rushed back in the vehicle, coated in ashes, wincing as they sat down.

Momo was the only one inside the car when Endeavor put Ochako down. The look on his face was stoic, but his eyes betrayed shame, guilt, or perhaps doubt. Momo assumed that he was feeling helpless, just like the rest of them.

Now, bouncing in the backseat behind Ochako's head, Momo wasn't sure anymore. She didn't remark on it at the time, but Endeavor's face had several peculiar scratch marks on it. Those could be from anything, but they could also be grooves dug in by fingernails.

There was blood under Ochako's fingernails. Momo stared once that puzzle piece fit so neatly in her head, but the whole picture still wasn't clear.

"Red Two, this is Yellow One. Do you have visual confirmation, over?" their radio hissed back to life as they charged away from the raining destruction above them. The English-speaking voice spoke with a thick drawl hidden underneath years of professional training.

Momo held her breath. They ignored the screen once they found Ochako, and that was a mistake. The formation turned some time ago, veering back around to reexamine, reassess.

They're confirming their kill, Momo thought bitterly.

Before thinking about it, she grabbed hold of Mina's hand next to hers. Midnight's grip on the steering wheel tightened audibly as her skin chafed at the leather.

"Yellow One, this is Red Two. I have visual. Target is intact. I repeat: target is intact. This is one tough walnut, boys," came the reply through their radio.

Momo exhaled, smiling for the first time since the explosion. "Oh, thank god," she breathed out while Mina let out a celebratory scream that peeled away into laughter.

"He's alive," Mina spoke excitedly. "Oh, god, yes! Uraraka! Did you hear that? Midoriya is alive!"

Ochako shed tears in her sleep, but somehow, Momo got the impression they were tears of relief.

"Alright, folks," the voice of Yellow One spoke up. "The MOAB wasn't enough, so it looks like the mission isn't over, not yet at least. For the second volley, Green Seven, you have clearance to arm Little John. I repeat: Green Seven has clearance to arm Little John. All fighters restore formation around Green Seven. It's time for a second run. This time, crack that nut," droned the commander in the skies. The longer he spoke, the more the women despaired.

"They're talking about Midoriya like he's just," Mina didn't finish. It was too disgusting to contemplate. "He's not the enemy!"

"What's a 'Little John' supposed to be?" Momo asked in horror.

"Something tells me we already know," Midnight seethed.

Mina stifled a fearful sob. They instinctively understood that the Americans had a tactical nuke. Suddenly their history lessons didn't seem so distant and irrelevant anymore.

"Yup," Mei's voice broke in, sounding clear as a bell despite the static that surrounded the pilots' voices. "I just looked it up. Little John is a tactical nuke with a small warhead, too small to measure in the same megaton range as their missiles. Hmm," she made several noises as she clicked through page after page of information. "Oh shit, it's comparable to what they dropped on Hiroshima!"

Mina punched the car door next to her. "Shit! Shit!" she uttered as tears flowed from her eyes.

"I can't believe these fuckers. Take over the world? Without air superiority or anti-air cover? They're bent," interjected another voice through the din of static.

Momo watched in horror as the formation edged closer and closer to the wreckage of Mt. Takao. "Please, no," she prayed.

Midnight said nothing about the impending bombing. "Check Uraraka's bandages, you two. Then strap her securely. We have to be careful about how much blood she could lose if we," she stopped herself.

If we flip, they all thought. If the bomb tosses us like a child throwing a toy car.

"Yes, ma'am," Momo said, leaning forward to care of Ochako while Mina leaned back, wallowing in despair.

"Orange Three, use your damn call sign, over," Yellow One sounded annoyed but not angry.

"This is Orange Three replying: yes, sir," the tone was sarcastic.

"Yellow One, this is Green Seven. Little John is armed. I repeat: Little John is armed. We will deploy on your mark, over," this voice rang through somberly. There wasn't anything casual about it. Whoever this man was, he took everything they were doing exceptionally seriously.

"Izu," Ochako moaned, writhing in her sleep. "No, please, no," she whined. "You're too important."

"It's alright, Uraraka," Momo leaned over her, taking in the bruises and scratches that decorated Ochako's face. The bandage they secured earlier around her torso was holding firm. Good. She sponged away more ashes while Mina used multiple seatbelts to secure Ochako in place. "We need to check her for other injuries," she mused aloud. "I know distance is a concern, but," Momo trailed off when Ochako grabbed hold of her hand, gripping it tightly.

Midnight kicked the vehicle into a higher gear. "Hang on, ladies. I don't think it's going to be safe to stop for a while."

"Oh, shit," Mina muttered. "If this blast is bigger than the last one, will there be a hill big enough to bear it out? We can only get lucky like that once, can't we?"

Momo bit the inside of her cheek. They were absurdly lucky before when Midnight stopped behind a large foothill near the base of the mountain, somehow avoiding the worse of the blast wave despite their proximity. If they dropped a city-killer next, nothing would be safe.

"We're not sticking around to find out," Midnight assured her passengers.

"You be careful, all of you," Mei uttered through their radio. "I'm watching from the skies. You have maybe a full minute before they're above Takao. I'd alter course, though, just to be safe. If you're in the direction the wind is blowing that ash, you'll be in the path of any radiation the next bomb unleashes no matter how much distance you put in."

"Thanks, Hatsume," Midnight sounded off before turning due north. The car bumped and groaned with the sudden course change.

Above Takao, Momo observed. Not Mt. Takao, just Takao. Would it be renamed Takao Crater? Takao Lake? When the dust settled, would there be people left to name it?

Momo turned to look behind them at the pillar of smoke and fire. Now and then, plumes of ash parted to reveal the Chrysalis' twisted metal shape floating above the crater, surrounded by glowing green light. She prayed silently that Midoriya Izuku would be alright, that he'd come out of there alive and well, then turned her attention back to the other women in the car and the world in front of them.

"That's weird, there's something," Mei's voice cut off abruptly.

"Hatsume?" Midnight asked. "Hatsume, are you there?"

The video display changed to a pilot's face, masked with a large tube projecting out from his face, providing life-giving air while he flew his craft. Momo wondered if Mei made a mistake, somehow patching them into an in-cockpit camera instead of the satellite view.

"Who? What?" Mina asked, confused.

"Yellow One, this is Blue Five. We have a bogey inbound, coming at my six," interjected a voice they hadn't heard before. Without moving lips, it was hard to tell that the man on the screen was the one talking.

"Blue Five, shake that bogey off and get it in your sights. These aren't friendly skies. Light 'em up," the commanding officer ordered sternly.

"Roger that. Excuse me, gents," the smirk in the man's voice was audible. He pulled on his controls, banking into a hard roll.

The screen darkened, but it wasn't signal interference. Momo and Mina watched as he flinched backward before they heard him scream.

Then the darkness tore through the glass around him, invading inward until they saw nothing but black static.

"Blue Five! Blue Five! What's happening back there?" the commander's adrenaline-fueled words filled Momo's heart with dread.

"We just watched a man die, didn't we?" Mina asked aloud.

"We did," Midnight confirmed.

All Momo could do was breathe, trying to focus on filling her lungs before exhaling as slowly as possible.

The on-screen view transitioned to an odd-angled vista of the coastline, panning slowly. The camera jerked suddenly, pulled roughly by an unseen force. The device turned to behold a scene of abject destruction. Smoke rose from the earth as an eerie green glow permeated the air.

Then the camera focused on a red mask floating freely without a face behind it. A pillar of rotating stones ground together underneath it, glowing like hot embers where they connected.

"Humans," interrupted a nearly mechanical voice, like the needle on an old record-player making distorted noise. Unlike the pilots, this one spoke in Japanese.

"Oh shit," Momo started hyperventilating. "That's the comm I gave to Uraraka!"

"We lost John!" another pilot panicked, breaking the call-sign language of their conversation.

"All Fighters! Break formation! Engage! Engage! Green Seven, continue to the target! No matter what, bring the package home! You got me?" their commander shouted over the comms.

Mina leaned in to cling to Momo's side, and Momo wrapped an arm around the other woman instinctively.

"Disgusting, weak, undeservedly arrogant humans. You are all in need of correction," the emotionless voice droned on, speaking their language yet sounding more alien for it.

The camera shut off, altering the view to the face of another pilot. The women in the car had no way of knowing which one it was.

"Ah!" the pilot screamed as static edged its way into the signal. He jerked his head left and right, panic fueling his movements. "It's eating the wings! It's eating them! It's going into my engines! It's!"

Then the screen went dark. No more sound came in.

The explosion overhead was small due to the distance, but Momo saw it, flinching away even as she turned her eyes skyward. High above them, the pilots were fighting and dying, and Momo had no idea what was up there killing them.

She knew who was controlling it, though. She just didn't want to think the demon's name, let alone say it out loud.

The screen came back to life, showing another pilot leaning in, focusing hard on the displays in front of him. So far, none of them knew they had a secret audience.

"I can't get a lock! I can't target it!" his panic filled the airwaves.

Momo felt a chill running up and down her spine. She felt guilty for praying, as though her small wish lead to the painful deaths happening again and again on their screen. "No, please," she begged no one in particular.

"So lost, so alone, and as always, so fragile," the demonic voice grew more intense, edging closer to sadistic enjoyment with each passing word.

The pilot on camera found himself engulfed in darkness as pelting noises interjected into their ears, followed by scratching, scraping, then the inevitable sound of glass breaking inward. Momo watched, transfixed, as the man's arms were ripped from his shoulders by thousands of tiny black blades. The swirling noises of the swarm drowned out his screams.

Then the screen went dark, and another explosion popped off like a distant firework in the sky.

With each passing death, as Momo watched, the guiding hand of the demon grew ever crueler, getting disturbingly creative as he dismembered the pilots one by one.

"Who is that? Who is on our comm channel? Does anyone have sights on it?" another pilot called out a desperate plea as his camera turned on, letting Momo and Mina know that he was the next target.

Momo couldn't stop her teeth from chattering.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the demon hissed. It was almost as if the monster was in the cockpit next to the man's ear.

The tiny black blades tapped onto his cockpit windshield, vibrating in tune to the demon's voice. "I am the Inkwell of Blood. I serve the End of All Wisdom, and through that service, the Endless Desert."

"What do you want?" the man cried as he enunciated the Japanese words as best he could. Momo's heart broke for him. Mina cried tears almost as readily as he did, sobbing in his cockpit.

"Jason," another voice broke through the comms. "What is it? What do you see back there?"

"I want you, all of you," the demon spoke soothingly, smoothly, before puncturing through the glass and eviscerating the pilot while Mina and Momo watched, transfixed.

The demon sent the obsidian blades swarming in. They entered the pilot's body through the base of his neck, burrowing under his skin and clothes. He screamed, but his outcry stopped in his throat as more shards turned inward, charging through his lunges and then up, out his mouth. He died quickly, though painfully, yet the swarm continued to decimate his corpse.

The screen went black before another pop sounded off somewhere above them, farther south than the others were.

Mina screamed uncontrollably, gripping onto her lower teeth, stretching her jaw open as she pulled on herself. There were no words in her wailing, no sense of order in her eyes.

"Mina, Mina!" Momo called to her, reaching over to hold onto the other woman tightly.

"Don't look," Momo urged her. "Just hold onto me and shut your eyes!"

Mina nodded even as she wailed out a moaning sob, stifling it into Momo's neck.

"Thank you, Momo," Midnight said as she steered them onto a road. There was a harsh impact as they broke over a curb, followed by smooth, comforting asphalt. Despite this step in the right direction, no one in the car felt like celebrating.

Ochako squirmed on her makeshift bed. Blood trickled from somewhere on the back of her head. Momo knew she needed to attend to that but decided to calm Mina down first.

"Oh, shit," another voice rocked through the airwaves as another camera told Momo who the demon's next victim would be. "I have eyes on it. It's a fucking swarm. There's thousands, millions, oh fuck," the voice cut itself off into screaming as darkness enveloped the pilot. The glass above him exploded inward as a column of black blades thrust their way in, impaling him in his stomach. He didn't scream anymore. He gurgled as blood choked him. The screen went dark as another explosion dotted the sky, a blotch of red against a shimmering green backdrop.

"Your lonely existence ends now with my embrace," the demon called out as if urging them on with fantastic news, but it only promised death.

"He's killing all of them, one by one," Mina started hyperventilating into Momo's neck. "They're in fighter jets, and he's plucking them from the sky, just toying with them, oh god!"

The camera shifted to another face. This time, the man had his mask off despite how hard he was breathing. He gazed around, darting his eyes all over as he took in carnage and chaos where his team used to be. The sky above him cast his face in a sickly green.

Momo bit her lip. The man was handsome, with a strong chin. She decided he was braver than she was. Although his movements were rapid, there wasn't a sense of panic about him.

"Green Seven, continue to the target! That's an order! Do you," his outcry was interrupted by loud pelting sounds. A hailstorm of impacts scraped the metal of his craft. Although they didn't see anything yet, they heard it. The pelting got louder, more insistent, and was accompanied by the scream of static as the camera struggled to capture these events.

The cockpit didn't darken. It offered Momo and Mina a well-lit view just so they could watch him die, staring at every excruciating detail.

"Oh god," he uttered his last words as he looked down. "They're in the cockpit!"

Shards of polished obsidian swarmed up his legs as the floor gave way underneath him. He rattled in his seat, vomiting blood as the razor-edged invaders tore into him from below. Momo recoiled backward when the blades spun through his neck, severing his head from his body.

Mina almost threw up, retching as they listened to the awful sounds of razors slicing through meat. Despite turning away from the screen, Mina forced herself to listen as sticky wet sounds splattered through their speakers with crystal clarity.

Momo never turned her eyes away, never shut them. Her tears were the only barrier between her and the man's face as he died. She was glad that his screaming stopped quickly, that his death was swift. The killing swarm wanted complete overkill as they tore his body into obscene shreds.

"No!" Midnight yelled when Mina reached forward towards the touchscreen, her fingers edging perilously towards the power button. "We might disagree with their mission, but we owe it to them. We might be the only witnesses they'll ever have."

The radio roared with a loud explosion, deafening them to the pop far overhead. Then their screen screamed with static. Midnight jerked the wheel, steering them too sharply as she reacted to the terrible knowledge, the gruesome death of another human being. That was four by Momo's count, or was it five? How many pilots were on this mission?

How many were left?

The screen shifted, blurring until two men in a larger cockpit were visible, one behind the other. The man up front focused on flying while the man in the rear spoke up. "This is Green Seven. Is anyone out there? This is Green Seven. Shit! Yellow One, if you don't respond, I'm assuming command of the mission and authorizing drop," the voice called out, devoid of hope. "Dave, please tell me you're still alive!"

Silence. They were the last ones up there. That knowledge felt like a fist of ice around Momo's heart.

The pilot shook his head somberly while his copilot cried. He didn't admonish his friend. His eyes told Momo that he knew the end was coming no matter what they did next.

"Didn't you hear them scream?" the demonic voice called out across the airwaves. "I love the sounds you make while I tear your faces off, the last expressions you wear, etched for all time in the leather of my collection. Come, mortals, and join your brothers."

"No! Fuck! Shit! No!" the pilot finally spoke up only to utter his last words. They echoed through the radio into the car along with wet, agonizing noises. Metal scraped and burned while the black blades sliced human meat to ribbons, all in horrifying surround-sound.

Mina shut her eyes and curled inward.

Momo watched, wide-eyed, as everything played out in gruesome detail.

As she sat transfixed, the tiny blades moved, eroding the glass and metal that surrounded the two men. Before they could react, think of a plan, do anything, the shards invaded the cockpit.

They screamed when the blades wormed under their skin, fileting through their flesh. Their hands were torn from their arms, leaving useless stumps that squirted blood. Then the black-shimmering edges attacked their faces. The tiny knife-like shards extracted one screaming mask of human skin with nauseating efficiency, then another, leaving both men alive and mutilated, their gaunt faces bloody and naked to what came next.

Momo would never forget them, their teeth and eyes exposed. They couldn't close their lips or eyelids because they had none.

"Such sweet music," the demon's voice sounded ecstatic, reveling in the song of their final screams.

Like a torrent of hungry piranha, the blades dove through their chests. Both men coughed up blood and choked before falling limp in their chairs, dead.

The camera shifted oddly, and suddenly Momo realized that the cockpit was falling, hurtling towards the ground. The craft appeared briefly in her field of vision somewhere behind the two corpses before it detonated amid a storm of stone. The explosion was too blindingly bright for the car's screen to transmit, too loud for their speakers to depict.

As if in mockery, the cockpit's parachute deployed, slowing the last two pilots' descent. It seemed tragically ironic, given how it wouldn't do them any good.

Midnight's teeth ground against each other as she wore an ugly grimace. Momo didn't need any more prompting to understand what was upsetting the hero. The parachute wasn't an accident of irony but intentional cruelty. The demon spared their corpses so that he could collect some trophies. The thought revolted Momo to her core.

Holding Mina close to her breast and nuzzling her face into a soft bed of pink hair, Momo sobbed before she even knew she was crying.

"Momo, look: Ochako," Mina whispers to Momo, nudging her.

Momo lifted her face away from Mina's nest of pink hair and saw what Mina was trying to point out. Somehow, she prevented her eyes from taking in the screen up front where the macabre spectacle lingered.

The bandage around Ochako's side was turning a deep shade of red. "Scoot over, Mina, please," she urged quietly. None of them noticed the transition from surnames to first names. It happened smoothly and seamlessly as their teamwork solidified.

The two of them unbuckled, feeling safer on smooth roads and moving away from the disaster. The medical car-bed Ochako was on had a stretch function that allowed Momo to slide Ochako back towards them before re-locking the mechanism.

Mina knelt on the floor to give Momo more room to work.

"How is she?" Midnight asked. Her face was wet. Momo wanted to reach forward and squeeze her shoulder, perhaps thank her for driving them, but for now, she knew that Midnight wanted all of their focus on Ochako. It was for both Ochako's sake and their sanity.

Before doing anything else, Momo read the ambient thermometer built into the medical bed. Ochako's temperature was dropping. Momo looked at the woman's face and was appalled by how pale she was.

Momo unraveled the bandages and winced at the damage underneath. "Her temperature is dropping, and I think she has broken ribs. The jostling we did off-road earlier didn't help. Also, I think she has a concussion. I'm not sure how long she's been bleeding, though, so," Momo bit her lip, wondering what to do next.

"Here, my mother's a nurse, so I've seen her do this before," Mina said as she knelt on the car floor. She reached underneath the medical bed and got out a small packet of artificial hemoglobin. She hooked in the connector tube and handed the bag to Momo.

Momo had never seen one of these before except in textbooks despite many attempts to replicate them only to discover that she couldn't make artificial hemoglobin. She'd tried. The molecule was too large, too complicated, for her Quirk. Still, Mina's implied instructions were clear. Momo raised a metal pole from a slot near Ochako's head and hooked the bag in place.

Mina wiped Ochako's arm. "Now for the hard part," she said with a half-hearted smile. Momo noticed that while on the floor, Mina kept her eyes and ears oriented to the rear of the vehicle, refusing to acknowledge the corpse-filled cockpit that dominated their nav-screen.

Despite her earlier revulsion, Mina held the needle steady as she searched Ochako's arm for a usable vein. Momo winced when Mina's first attempt didn't hit the mark, then again at her second, but her third one, thankfully, did. Mina unclasped a binder on the line, releasing oxygen-rich fluid into Ochako.

Once Mina finished her part in replenishing Ochako's blood, she checked below the bed for other fluids they could add to the feed as well as other supplies. A thermal blanket was down there, and Mina grabbed it up, ripping open the sanitizing plastic-wrap. Mina tucked Ochako's legs in until her lower body looked like a pair of shiny tinfoil dumplings.

Meanwhile, Momo attended to the injury on Ochako's head. She bound it tightly with a self-pressing seal-bandage. It would be a bitch to extract from Ochako's hair later, but in the meantime, it left Momo's hands-free and left Ochako's face uncovered.

Ochako wept, her face contorting into utter sorrow. "I'm sorry, Izuku. I'm so sorry."

"Hush, Ochako," Momo rested her hand against Ochako's cheek. Her face was alarmingly cold. "Everything's going to be fine."

"I'm sorry," Ochako mumbled. "I let you down."

Momo stared at Ochako hard, focusing on her face while Mina redressed the bandages around her midsection. Something about this felt off. Momo had a sinking feeling that Ochako hadn't gotten away from the demons with Endeavor's help as they'd assumed.

She filed this all away, vowing to get answers for Ochako, even it meant getting answers from Ochako.

Momo shifted her eyes up when the screen flickered, changing from a view of dead pilots to the hellscape that used to be Mt. Takao. The Chrysalis floated above the wrecked earth, distorted as though behind a magnifying lens as it surrounded itself in green light. Above it, an emerald sun glowed through the billowing smoke, refusing to allow anything as paltry as a destroyed mountain to diminish its brilliant light.

For just a moment, one fraction of a second, Momo swore she saw movement inside the gargantuan shell, a flicker of light and life. Was Izuku still trying to communicate with them? It was so rapid, though, that it was over before she could register it fully.

"Humans of the Island Nation Where the Lesser Sun Rises," the masked demon spoke smoothly, formally, despite his strange-sounding voice. He used an archaic form of Japanese, one overloaded with honorific speech. "I am reaching out to you, all of you, to let you know that the truce brokered by the mother-regent, Inko of House Midoriya, is now over."

"Oh, fuck," Mina breathed out.

"Is this reaching everyone?" Midnight asked, incredulous.

Momo considered the ramifications of that claim. Did the demons somehow hack into the same satellite network Mei was just on? Were they communicating with everyone in Japan? It would explain how Mei's signal was interrupted.

"I successfully thwarted your attempt on the life of Prince Izuku of House Ligier. I assure you that I took great pleasure in ending the lives of your assassins," the demon's masked face cracked just then. The crack edged outward from its mouth. It was a smile on a false face that couldn't move to make one, a disturbing mockery of human expression.

Momo narrowed her eyes. Why was he smiling so hard? What motivated that?

"Per the terms of our agreement, we ceased all overt hostilities," the demon continued. "By the power entrusted to me, I now deem you all Oathbreakers. We will hunt you down for your transgression. Do not think that you can escape us as you flee from one city to the next. We will uncover you where you hide and chase you where you flee."

Momo leaned in, taking in every word. The message felt like psychological warfare. If humans were nothing but prey, though, why engage them this way? Why communicate like this at all? It made no sense.

The demon's smile reminded her of one her father wore once, though this was more twisted and far crueler. Back then, he was teaching her a lesson while demolishing her at a game of chess. He meant to demoralize her, a lesson she didn't appreciate until later.

"Before we slaughter you, though, we must attend to one formality of our arrangement," he gestured outward. "You kindly surrendered your champion to us as a hostage to keep the peace between us. In acknowledgment, then, we will execute your champion, All Might."

"No!" Midnight yelled, breaking her silence as the car swerved with her emotional outburst. She quickly regained control.

"Not All Might, no, oh god, no!" Mina curled down on the floor of the car and covered her face and head with her hands. Her body shook with racking sobs.

Momo's nails dug into her palms as her fists tightened. "Bastards," she seethed through hot tears.

The camera panned to the face of another commander in the demonic army. Momo immediately recognized the human-appearance of Mara. "That bitch," Momo almost spat.

"It will be my unique pleasure," the woman spoke eloquently in Japanese, far more adept at the language than her formal counterpart. "Indeed, it will be my honor," she smiled, "to behead your champion, the 'hero' known as All Might."

The way she sarcastically lilted on the word 'hero' made Momo's blood boil.

"Mina," Midnight spoke then, defeat and anger warring in her tone. "Look up. We owe it to All Might to look up, to keep our heads high. It's what he'd want from us now."

Mina took a long moment to sort herself, to sit up. Momo reached down to help Mina up into her seat. The pink-skinned woman wiped angry tears from her eyes before sitting straight up. "For All Might," Mina spoke through clamped teeth even as more tears flowed from her eyes.

Momo took hold of Mina's hand and didn't let go. She smiled for Mina's sake.

"For All Might," Momo reaffirmed Mina's resolve.

Midnight nodded before wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "For All Might," Midnight repeated after her deputies.

{}

Unnoticed by anyone else, the Oathbreaker flew on jets of self-fueled fire as he rocketed through the viridescent skies south of Japan. The alien-looking waters reflected the eerie light above, surrounded in a cocoon of emerald light.

Even at this distance, the comm system in his ears worked. He heard the demon clearly, just as he heard the pilots scream and die. He knew what was about to happen to All Might.

When the monster called them all Oathbreakers, he knew that burden was his alone. Innocents, though, would pay the price for his error.

Endeavor knew it was all his fault.

"I'm sorry. Everyone, I'm sorry," the fire-fueled hero seethed the words through his teeth, though no one could hear him.

It was too late now, Endeavor told himself as he clutched the small packages he stole. Surely some secret hidden inside these stones would bring humanity the salvation they desperately needed. Perhaps they contained a preview of the fate that awaited them. Maybe they held secret intel, instructions, how to strike the enemy, and where. Better yet, they could be a means to escape the reach of these monsters.

Even if it meant salvation for only a few, Endeavor knew that he'd make the same choices again and without hesitation. He just hoped that his children could be in that elect number. If he could save them from the cruelty of these monsters, then Endeavor would do anything, kill anyone, tell any lie, just to make sure that they survived this madness.

His eye twitched at the memory of the young woman, Uraraka, how she wailed and fought him when he pried the stones from her grip. His heart ached for the fate he consigned to his rival and one-time friend, All Might.

He removed the comm-system from his ear, crushing it into molten slag before accelerating. If his transgressions were to have any meaning, then he'd need absolute secrecy for the next steps of his plan. Endeavor conjured the images of his children in his heart, back when they were young and smiling. All of this was for them, he told himself, to protect their futures.

The weight of his guilt didn't alter his course, didn't change his mind. If the only way to save humanity, any of it, was to become as monstrous as the invading demons, then Endeavor resolved to be a devil among men.

{}

Inko cowered into All Might's embrace, taking almost no comfort as the shockwaves from the blast flew through them, barely registering to their senses as car alarms blared, windows blew apart, and trees cracked. She stifled her screams by biting down onto the chain that lead to his neck, bearing down until her jaw ached.

Through it all, Toshinori held her firmly, his hand resting firmly on the back of her head. Inko flinched when his chin lifted from above her eyes, exposing her eyelids to the ever-present green twilight.

"Just hold onto me," he assured her. His voice was deep, calming, and just loud enough that only Inko could make out the words. She drew strength from that kernel of privacy he offered her.

Inko gripped onto him so tightly that she could have memorized the feel of his bones under her fingers. Her Quirk acted on instinct alongside her body to hang onto him as if he were the anchor in her storm-filled world.

At last, the noise and reverberations passed over and through them. Other than the ephemerally distorted sounds of car alarms, there was no distinguishable sound nearby but Toshinori's heartbeat in her ears.

Inko dared to open her eyes and lift her head from his chest. She wished that she hadn't, as her decision only afforded her a view of that horrible shell floating in the air, unblemished by the attack. The mountain, though, was reduced to a broad hill topped by a crater. The bombing didn't even spare the parking lot at the base.

Inko couldn't help but weep, thinking that not even Izuku's etched signature on the side of that vending machine remained. Would she ever see her son again? Would she even get scraps to help her remember him?

She sobbed inconsolably, and before she knew it, Toshinori wiped away the worst of her tears with his thumb.

Inko looked up into his eyes, blue with flecks of green from the radiant sky above. She almost asked him if he could tell her how Izuku was doing, but Inko knew that All Might had no answers beyond comforting gestures.

She turned in his arms to look at the warrior-woman, Sondok. "Is my son safe?" Inko choked on her emotions before continuing. "Is Izuku alive? Is he safe?"

Toshinori wrapped his arm around her protectively, as if to shield her from Sondok's answer.

The demon inclined her head, gazing unflinchingly into Inko's heart with those haunting red eyes. She did not smile, did not express anything good or bad. "The Prince endures," was all that Sondok supplied.

For Inko, those words were enough. The dam broke inside her as tears of relief flooded out to overcome the tears brought by fear and loss.

Toshinori guided her head into the crook of his neck. Her forehead rested against the manacle that bound him to his chains. "What about the girl that was with him?"

Inko didn't see Sondok shrug, but she felt All Might's muscles lock together stiffly. Inko winced as hot tears soaked into his clothes.

"That poor girl," Inko's teeth chattered. My son's first girlfriend. She could have been his first girlfriend.

She imagined the scene in her head, how happy and nervous he'd seem to bring a girl home to meet his mother. She imagined all the things he'd ask her to say or not say so that she wouldn't embarrass her son in front of his first love. The thought that he'd have to mourn her instead of introducing her, crying as he visited her family burial plot, made her sick to her stomach.

My son met a girl, and she died before I even learned her name!

Her heart tore in half with empathy for the poor child's family. For the past few days, the all-consuming thought that she'd lose her only son forever tormented Inko. Only now, she confronted the idea that other families around her were already feeling the loss that she feared.

"Why," Inko spoke between sobs as she leaned into All Might's chest. As bony as he was, he was a pillar for her, and she borrowed more strength from him than she knew he had left. "Why did she have to die?"

This time, Inko turned to stare at the demon, glaring at her through curtains of emotion-laden water that poured from her eyes.

Sondok crossed her arms. "We gave Prince Izuku, or rather, his Emissary, a choice."

"A choice," Inko spat the words out. It wasn't a question. It was a demand for further explanation.

Sondok leveled an even gaze into the mother's eyes. "The Emissary had to pick between his lover and his species. His choice was an interesting one."

"Interesting in what way?" All Might asked from just behind Inko. She leaned back against him as if bracing for the answer.

Sondok frowned. "The Emissary chose death."

Those words stabbed deep into Inko like a hot knife thrust into her heart. She rushed forward before she knew what propelled her, acting before thinking about it. "Death? Is he dead? You said my son was alive! You said the Prince endures!"

Inko swung her fist to connect with Sondok's face.

Sondok didn't block or flinch, merely accepting the blow as if it were a leaf blowing on the wind. Once Inko's outburst made contact, though, Sondok pushed her back into All Might's arms. "The only part of the Prince worth anything remains intact. With the Emissary gone, he is less corrupted by his human ancestry, all without any blood on our hands."

Sondok smiled, revealing rows of iron-spiked teeth.

"You bitch," Inko cried bitter tears as she whispered the insult out. Her voice rose into a throat-shredding shout. "I'm his human ancestry!"

"Inko," All Might rested his hand firmly on her shoulder. She turned her face to look into the sorrow-filled pits of his eyes. "He tried to be a hero. He tried to save her without betraying anyone. Don't let them distract you from that."

Inko clamped her eyes shut as if to close the dam and seal up her wellspring of tears. Izuku wanted to do the right thing, she told herself. He's trying to be human, being heroic no matter what else they turn him into.

Izuku endures, not the Prince, Izuku. Izuku made the right choice, Inko reminded herself, not some nameless Emissary. She'd mourn him, she decided, and be proud of him while reminding the son she had left about him.

Inko was about to give Sondok another piece of her mind when popping sounds erupted from somewhere up above them. They came in relatively quick succession, each no more than a minute apart. "What is that?" she breathed the question out, fearing the answer.

"Mahbagodeth is performing his duty," Sondok said impassively. "As feeble as they are, he takes the task of defending the Prince seriously." The way she said it, it almost sounded like she envied him.

"They aren't a threat, and they never were," Toshinori stepped in to observe. "I have to wonder what gave them the idea that they could accomplish anything."

Sondok smirked. "Hubris," was her only reply.

The silence after the last explosion was even more deafening than all the noise that came before it. Inko stood there, helpless as tears streamed down her face. All Might stepped in next to her, offering his hand for her to hold. He stared coldly at Sondok, but to Inko, he was warm.

"I suppose your kind had nothing to do with this, that you just happened to offer Young Midoriya those choices out of mercy and circumstance," All Might spat out sarcastically.

"Mankind likes to listen when we whisper in their ears, a trait my peers use to our advantage. Your kind often blames us when you make terrible choices, but that's what they are: choices. Oaths cannot be broken by puppets, only by those with free will." Venom rose in Sondok's words like a tide of bile. Her disgust was obvious: don't blame us for your stupidity, vermin.

Their debate was cut short as dark oil shimmered up from the ground near them, rising to form humanoid shapes. They remained hazy, obscured, and warped as though beyond the surface of a disturbed pond, rippling even as Inko tried to make out what they were.

One of the shapes stepped forward, crossing the veil between the physical and immaterial world to stand with them. It was a black, wet shape that only vaguely seemed human. It bubbled and oozed as it slumped forward into their alien reality.

"What is," Inko never finished, receding behind All Might as the thing writhed and screamed.

The creature's chest expanded obscenely before it burst like a balloon, and from it's black-puddle-corpse rose a woman in classical Heian attire. Her hair was long, smooth, and black as midnight. Her many-layered green-on-gold kimono looked heavy as it dragged through the oil-slicked mud yet remained immaculate. She opened a beautiful golden fan to hide her mouth, but before she did, Inko saw a beautiful face, one made pale with thick white makeup and just a touch of lipstick and blush, enough to make her mouth seem small and her cheeks innocently shy.

Despite her locally inspired appearance, the woman turned and addressed Sondok in their demonic language. Watching such a human face speak so casually in that monstrous tongue sent chills through Inko's body, waves of dreadful anticipation.

Their words grew heated as the two demonic women fell into a disagreement, their tone catty and cruel with each other. The newcomer enjoyed teasing, it seemed, but Sondok was a warrior that knew how to bark as well as bite. Inko watched their exchange, wondering what could have them behave so divided. Was this normal for them?

That's when Inko noticed the earpiece dangling from a knot on the woman's fan. What could that mean?

"Excuse me for interrupting," All Might spoke up next to her, daring to intrude as these two lionesses argued, risking himself as he exposed his neck to their agitated and eager fangs. He let go of Inko's hand long enough to bow to the newcomer. "I'm All Might, and it's a pleasure to meet you."

"So polite," the woman mused in eloquently fluent Japanese, completely lacking the accent of Sondok or the alien staccato of Mahbagodeth. "I am Mara, the Shadow Lover. In just a few minutes, I will be your executioner. A pleasure, I'm sure," she smiled prettily at him as though she were flirting.

Executioner? Executioner? "Wait, but," Inko stuttered, the one pillar that she relied on crumbling inside her soul. "He did nothing wrong!"

"Hostages often don't," Mara said with a pout. "But a bargain is a bargain, and the humans broke the accord. We must live up to our threats, or else no one across all the world would take us seriously! We can't have that, can we, Lady Sondok?"

Sondok bit back a harsh reply in their native tongue, one so guttural and hate-filled that Inko wondered if any insult in Japanese could ever match.

"I anticipated this," All Might said calmly, shocking Inko even more. "Will you do it quickly, painlessly, if I cooperate?"

"I'd prefer to rip out your heart and burn it to ash, but the Inkwell has another plan for you," Mara's smile continued to contrast against her words.

"No," it felt like Inko could not breathe. "No! Please, no!" She mustered every ounce of strength she had while standing in front of him and facing down this new threat. "I made a deal! I sold my soul to keep people alive, to save the heroes!"

Mara tilted her head to the side while smiling pitiably. "Indeed, and your efforts were useful to us, a means to manipulate your son. Now that the humans broke the accord and your son's Emissary is no longer alive, we don't care about your deal."

They used me to trick him, Inko thought as icy despair coated her heart. I helped kill him. "Please," she begged, bowing low. "Please, my son looks up to this man! It would devastate him if All Might died!"

"We know that," Mara said, striding forward past Inko as if to dismiss the conversation. "Your son needs new idols, idols we will gladly provide him. When he looks up, it will be the Unquestionable that he beholds. When he turns left and right, we will be his peers. This human," she looked up and down Toshinori's skeletal frame with disdain, his clothes hanging loose and ragged about him as the chains rattled on him.

"This is not something the Prince will ever aspire to, nor should he," the woman sneered. "Come," she turned away from the two humans to look over to Sondok. "Let's stop wasting time."

To All Might's credit, he stood stoically and watched as Sondok unsheathed her sword. Inko, though, hyperventilated as her eyes glossed over every centimeter of the long blade.

Mara walked casually up to Sondok and waited until the warrior offered the sword handle first, though not without a barking sneer, some scathing remark Inko couldn't understand.

"Do you have to humiliate her like that?" All Might asked.

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. He knew he was about to die, and he spared a thought for his captor and her feeling. The idea was incredulous. To Inko, though, it matched her image of who he was, and her heart burst for him. The demon was wrong: All Might's superhuman strength wasn't what Izuku should aspire to, but his character, his heart.

Sondok's expression was one of disbelief, but Mara stared at All Might with something akin to hunger. It made Inko's stomach turn. "Did you pick up a few words of our language, human?" the demoness asked.

Toshinori merely turned his head to look at Sondok, refusing to meet Mara's gaze. "It doesn't take much to understand that you're insulting her by using her weapon to finish me off. It's not enough that you want to kill me, but you also have to spurn each other, competing over the kill."

"A shame," Mara said, walking up to him. She closed her fan before using it to prod his face, forcing eye contact. "I would have enjoyed toying with you. Still, don't worry too much about Sondok. A short moment of humiliation is the least she deserves for losing to a crowd of vermin, to quote Mahbagodeth and how he put it."

Inko balled her fist as she fought to keep her face neutral. She had to think. Think!

"Oh well," the demonic courtier said with a smile. "Follow me, then, and we'll deal with that insightful head of yours!"

As the two of them passed her, Sondok patted All Might on the back, pushing him towards Mara as the other demon wandered back to the puddle she used to cross the border between worlds. Inko turned to look at the warrior woman, wondering what meaning, if any, the gesture carried. Sondok stared forward, watching All Might walk unflinchingly to his doom. She formed a fist with one hand and closed her other hand around her fist before pressing the combined gesture to the center of her chest.

Was that what counted as respect among demons?

That didn't matter, though, not to Inko. "Wait," she said. "Wait!"

Inko strode forward, fast-walking to catch up to them. "Take me with you. I need," she stopped herself. "All Might needs someone there with him, to stand by him." During his execution, Inko almost said the words but could not muster them from within her gut.

"No, Miss Midoriya," All Might turned to her to object.

"Fine," Mara said, sounding bored. She pushed All Might down through the muck she emerged from earlier, his chains rattling as he fell backward, absorbed by the oil slick as it swallowed him in one world to expel him back into the other. "Now, your turn," the human-looking woman smiled cruelly.

Before she knew what was happening, Inko was surrounded by grasping thick tar as it pulled her through. At long last, her lungs filled with life-giving air, and the world around her was no longer ambient but solid.

Think, she told herself. You made it this far, Inko. Think!

{}

Toshinori helped Inko stand once they both hit solid ground, the asphalt lending support for them in ways they'd taken for granted before.

"Why," he started to ask before his executioner emerged into the world.

The robed demon was flanked on either side by her lesser, darker subordinates. The creatures looked vaguely human in their shape but were undoubtedly anything but people. Their oily skin undulated and pulsed with each passing moment, and their faceless heads turned, warping and writhing as though they were chewing on themselves.

Mara emerged unsullied by the mire she forced the two of them through, her body coalescing from formless darkness that rose to stand against the light. As an afterthought, she handed the earpiece dangling from her fan to one of the lesser demons and uttered a short command before tucking the fan into her sleeve. The sword rested in her other hand, dangling low as if to hide how threatening it was.

The monster accepted the earpiece and transformed while Toshinori watched, knots of revulsion forming in his gut when he recognized the face.

The creature turned into a mockery of Young Midoriya. Boyish, frail, and with large eyes filled with wonder and naïve enthusiasm, the monster's appearance pulled on his heart. Guilt and sympathy mixed uncomfortably in his chest.

Inko gasped next to him, and Toshinori winced in pain on her behalf. If this innocent face tore into him so much, he could only imagine what it was doing to her.

The imitation put on the earpiece and stepped back, presumably to get a good view for the camera. It had enough cruelty to smile at Toshinori and Inko, a smile filled with hope and wonder. It reminded Toshinori of the enthusiasm Midoriya had the other day when he met the young man.

That enthusiasm lasted up until he crushed the boy's spirit. Twice. Toshinori allowed his head to sink low, the manacle digging into the fleshy underside of his jaw. Was this guilt the reason he was ready to die?

Ink wept uncontrollably, shaking as she turned away from the image of her son.

Toshinori couldn't stop himself and placed his hand against her cheek. She pressed her face into his palm.

"I should be the one comforting you," she whispered.

"It's alright. I'd say you're doing a pretty good job," he smiled for her.

Off where Inko couldn't see, Mara made a show of testing her new blade by dropping a slip of paper over it. The sheet split itself against the sword's unmoving edge. Mara smiled for Toshinori's malefaction.

There wasn't much time left. The demon would become impatient. The only reason their enemies were allowing the moment to stretch out so much was to demoralize their audience, to build up their hopes. He knew what came after that, but for now, he focused on Inko.

"When you see your son again," he whispered to her. "Tell him I'm sorry that I wasn't a better role model for him, and for turning my back on him."

Her face showed him her internal struggle. She wanted to argue with him, to tell him that he was a fine man and that he did a better job than she did for her child. "I'll tell him, I promise."

Before he could react, Mara grabbed his shoulder from behind, pushing him down to his knees. Mara made a gesture, something he caught peripherally over his shoulder, and Inko backed away meekly.

Without Midoriya Inko in front of him, Toshinori had no one to stare at but the smiling mockery of Midoriya Izuku. They knelt him in just the right location so that the world could watch his head fly from his body. He wanted to look away, but he didn't want to appear cowardly, not when so many relied on him, needing him for bravery and inspiration. Besides, though there were other shadow demons gathered around, none had a face he could make eye contact with.

He stiffened when he felt the demon's fingers comb through the hair on the back of his head. Descending further, Mara brushed her fingers across the manacle around his neck, and it released him, obeying a wordless command from her. The clamping irons on his arm and legs remained, but for a glorious moment, Toshinori reveled in the freedom to move his head as he pleased, to feel the cold twilight air on his neck. His breathing became easier without the weight of it against his collarbone.

His moment of freedom was short-lived. Mara set his hair to the side as she bent his head low, elongating his neck. "Just like that," she said with the satisfaction of an artist. "Hold still, or not. It'll all end either way soon."

There was a long moment of silence. Toshinori breathed deeply, savoring the feeling in his lung. He couldn't see Mara while she stood behind him, but he felt her there just as keenly as if she had pressed her sword against his back.

Inko rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly as if to bind her body around him, to shield him from any harm. "No," she cried out. "Please," she sobbed over him, tears wetting his face.

"Don't do this, Inko. Your son needs you now more than ever," he whispered to her.

Perhaps it was the rush, the stress, or the adrenaline, but Inko turned her head and kissed him on his cheek. Mara pried the woman off him and threw her roughly, not giving him time to think through any of this, to sort out his feelings or what hers might be.

The demon grabbed him then, forcing him to stand and turn, jolting him with a hard grip on his hair. The chains that bound him rattled like he was a broken toy. Pain coursed through his scalp, a warning that it would give way, unable to carry his weight.

Toshinori glared into the demon's all-too-human eyes and saw nothing there but impatience and cruelty. This was it, he told himself, the moment of truth. The demons would take him to the edge of the abyss, his life entirely at their mercy.

They wanted him to beg, to cry out. They goaded him, expecting him to sell himself, be their slave, and sell One for All into their service.

Any moment now, they'd make him that final offer. He grit his teeth, ready to disappoint them, to refuse them, to spit in their face with one last act of defiance.

Mara's smile was sweet with cruelty. Her face elongated with each passing moment, thinning as he stared into death and darkness.

There would be no offer, he realized as cold dread gripped his heart. They didn't want his Quirk. They didn't need him or care about him. He was a useless pawn in a game they played and lost, and now it was time to dispose of the offending pieces.

"Speak your last words, mortal," she batted her eyes at him as if flirting.

All Might glanced over to the face of Izuku and the camera on the innocent-faced creature's ear. "Keep fighting," he coughed. "Never give up hope. Smile for anyone you're strong enough to protect. Smile for anyone protecting you. Cling to each other, survive, and carry your heroes in your heart."

"That was beautiful," the demon said as she reared up her sword arm, raising it above her head like a coiling snake ready to strike.

His last thought was of Izuku. Please, he prayed, please be safe, and please hold onto the ember of hope and determination that you used to rescue your friend. Please, he prayed so hard that his body coated itself in sweat, please be the line of defense humanity needs against these monsters.

Please, when you emerge from that metal prison, please be a hero.

All Might shut his eyes, ready for what was about to happen.

Inko screamed. It was the only warning he had that Mara's hand moved.

He smiled one last time as death lunged for his neck.

{}

The sky roared as violet lightning arced upward from the Chrysalis. Like the hammering of gods against distant glaciers, great cracking noises echoed throughout the city and beyond. Then, after the hammering ceased, emerald fire plumed outward as the shell fragmented into thousands of shrapnel-blades. The emerald sun above collapsed, plummeting the world below into darkness.

Time did not slow down.

It stopped completely, utterly defeated.

The world held its breath as the demon moved. Faster than wind, than sound, than thought, it ran not like a man but like fire. Asphalt cracked and burned where its feet touched, imploding like each footfall was an asteroid impact from high above.

Air burned around the monster as it hurtled forward faster than the world wanted to allow. Smoke and fire danced in front of it, heralding the demon-beast as it advanced. It zigzagged through hills and streets, leaving a great serpent of green fire-fueled destruction as it ran its course.

Prayers guided its senses. Lamentations of loss mingled with earnest pleas for help rang through the creature's ears, filled its nose as though supplicants burned incense under its nostrils.

Debris greeted it as it rushed forward. Yet that was nothing compared to the ushered chaos of its wake. As it moved too rapidly for the world to comprehend, it kicked up strewn vehicles into a storm behind him.

The demonic beast ground to a halt when it reached its destination. At long last, it inhaled, filling its bellow-lungs with its first taste of cold air, made hot by endless heat supplied by the beast's forge-fires, encased inside the monster's heart.

Time resumed, allowing a second shockwave to buffet through the city.

{}

Smoke billowed and plumed outward as sparks flew. Mara's strike was true, but her sword impacted against a surface of hard immovable brass. The demon woman jumped quickly, backing away, a look of shock and disbelief on her face.

Her jaw quivered, but only for the briefest moment. She composed herself. Her human features were restored under the emerald light of the Prince's Anima.

Smoke and light fought for dominance in the stillness that followed Mara's retreat.

As Inko watched, shadows moved under the smoke, coiling and writhing to cover walls of bronze-coated muscles. Her eyes bore witness to her confusion. She was unable to process what she saw there, uncertain of who this was. Doubt and hope warred inside her.

Toshinori knelt where he'd fallen, blood seeping from his scalp where Mara tore out hair and root in her haste. He looked up to see emerald light part the smoke around them, refusing to allow the new arrival to hide or conceal himself for long.

A long banner of green silken hair waved down the man's back. Bronze skin and dark clothing covered a tall, muscular frame. However, there was something, a pull deep in his gut, that told him that what he wanted to believe might be right in front of him.

"Midoriya," All Might coughed out amid the haze. "Is that you?"

"Izuku?" his mother called out, weak, feeble, unable to breathe amid the smoke, much less stand.

Despite his internal wants and needs, Prince Izuku ignored his mother and his one-time idol, locking his emerald-fire eyes on the demon in front of him. He didn't dignify the shadow-copy of his former-self with a glance.

The Prince stepped forward out of the smoke, revealing a long red-hot line of heated brass across his chest, one that the shadow-clothes recoiled away from as the super-heated metal burned the shadows away.

Izuku needed Mara to understand that her strike meant nothing to him. Perhaps she'd learn that she meant nothing to him.

"Kneel," he commanded her in the Malfean tongue, baring his fangs.

Mara grit her teeth, but after a tense moment, she knelt.

"All hail Prince Izuku," she seethed out, refusing to take her eyes off him for even a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, we arrive at the climax of the first arc. It's been quite a journey, but I'm glad we took it together.
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who encouraged me and pressed me forward. With 903 followers on FFN and 490 Kudos, your reception overwhelms me. I'm also grateful each time my wife reads and edits my chapters.
> 
> We've come so far, but the journey is far from over.
> 
> Before I continue with my fic rotation, I'm planning on outlining two book ideas. These will compete with each other and my other outlines in lethal combat soon. One of these contenders will become my first original manuscript, and hopefully, my first novel.
> 
> After that, we'll continue on with "The Reflection in the Viridescent Mirror," then "Izuku's Time Traveling Babysitting Service," followed by "Midoriya Izuku vs. the Women of Sigma Epsilon Chi (S.E.X.)" before returning to this fic again. As usual, I reserve the right to inject a chapter here and there of my Babysitting fic when I get stuck or in a mood that requires cheering up.
> 
> Feel free to come on my Discord Server and talk. We're a small but chill group. discord. gg /25BTet3
> 
> As usual, I reply to all comments. I reply directly on AO3 and in batch on FFN. Please be patient on FFN, as I like to wait so that I can reply to as many as possible at once since I do my review-replies in the reviews myself, and can only post one review per chapter.
> 
> Thank you all again, and I look forward to seeing you at the next chapter!


	29. I am Here

Momo gasped, wiping tears from her face with the hand that, until now, covered her mouth.

"Holy shit!" Mina erupted, laughing amid the tears and dirt that coated her face.

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" The car swerved as Midnight pounded triumphantly on the steering wheel, but no one feared for their safety despite the erratic move. Instead, they laughed, releasing tension long wound up in their chests.

One moment ago, they were watching an execution. That seemed so long ago now.

In less than one breath, sorrow and despair transmuted into hope and joy. Fear banished away as arousal, primal as ever, stepped forward to remind Momo that she was alive, that they all were alive, as if her body compelled her to celebrate the relief of her fears by supplying her with wants.

She bit her lip, dismissing the heat, the throbbing pulse, and even her stray thoughts.

Prince Izuku appeared larger than life as he dominated the screen, interjecting himself between the demon Mara and All Might. A tiny corner of Momo's mind admitted she was jealous of Ochako for spending so many hours alone with him, reminded her of all the questions she wanted to ask him, the missed opportunities for new knowledge from the last time they spoke.

Momo devoured the sight of the red glow where Mara's sword struck against him, fire-lit like forge-warmed metal. Her observations continued from there. Momo's eyes darted up and down his body, always returning to that bare patch on his chest. He wasn't wearing the pants Momo made, something that piqued her curiosity. Instead, he wore a casual but stylish outfit, despite the prominent bracers that decorated his forearms. Momo remembered those and wondered if she'd get to examine them up close. His skin gleamed with bronze, not merely a tan but a genuine metallic sheen. Izuku's eyes burned with determined fire, literal, actual fire.

Momo's heart beat rapidly in the presence of an apex predator, and she had to remind herself that he was an ally, far away and merely on-screen. She bit the inside of her cheek when she pictured him as an opponent, idly wondering what it would be like to face him. He rushed in there so rapidly that the naked eye couldn't follow him. He'd be a terror to stand against, and part of her feared the demons would get their way and use him as their weapon.

No, she didn't just picture what it meant to face him.

Lose to him. Submit to him.

One word, a single authoritative command, and the demon woman knelt. Momo felt a yawning emptiness, a pulsating heat inside her, at his audacity. The opponent in her imagination won, pinning her down beneath him.

Momo remembered the cocky smirk he wore outside the Chrysalis, how he faced down the same demonic woman then as now. He left a powerful impression on her, leaving her so flustered that she forgot to make him a shirt or even shoes.

When Momo's eyes shut, even briefly, she easily superimposed the bronze demigod on-screen with the echo she'd met before, wearing only those black slacks as he crawled over her, trapping her beneath him. She remembered the heat his body radiated, wondering if the real Prince would feel just as hot between her legs, pressing down on her, weight against her breasts as his fangs grazed along her neck.

She repeated the command he used on Mara, that bitch, imagining him growling it into her ear. Submit to me, that voice compelled her. I own you, it asserted, and Momo's fluttering heart obeyed. There was no lexicon, no dictionary, that allowed her to understand his authoritative yet foreign voice, but Momo wanted to be where that demon bitch was: at his mercy.

His hands, intense, hot, would tear apart her blouse, removing the impediment to his rightful due as he explored further down, his lips, tongue, and teeth playfully grazing over newfound territory for him to claim. He'd climb, ever so slowly, ascending her breasts to the peaks, his fangs moving tantalizingly close, teasing but never piercing, until, oh until!

Then, oh and then!

"He just put her in her place," Mina whispered in awe, interrupting Momo's fantasies. The gleam in her black-on-yellow eyes told Momo exactly how hot Mina thought that was. Her pink skin flushed a purplish crimson while she inhaled ragged breaths of excitement. Mina's chest rose and fell with each intake as if her body were restrained and longed freedom from her top.

So, Momo mused, I'm not the only one here aroused by that kind of power. She just hoped she was better at hiding it than Mina. Mina, however, gave Momo a sidelong glance and a smirk. Momo's neck and cheeks were already hot, but their temperature rose to new heights. Fearing Mina'd caught her, Momo couldn't lock gazes with her pink friend.

Tightness. A squeeze. Momo looked down at her hand, marveling at the unexpected sensation. "Uraraka?" she asked, testing if the other woman was awake.

"Is she responding?" Midnight asked.

"Hey," Mina whispered, taking a cloth to wipe Ochako's face. "Your boyfriend just saved All Might."

Boyfriend. Momo flushed with hot guilt. Did she just lust after someone who wasn't available for her to want? Oh god, she did!

Enough of that. Now wasn't the time. "I don't think," Momo cut herself short, gasping as her lips curled into a smile.

Ochako surprised both women when she reached up to take hold of Mina's hand. "Izu," she moaned, tears streaming from her eyes.

"She's burning up," Momo observed aloud, placing her other hand on Ochako's forehead.

"I'll activate some cold-packs," Mina reached under the medical stretcher to find the right supplies, leaning across Momo's lap in the process.

Movement on-screen distracted Momo, and what she saw horrified her. "What? No!"

What the hell was Izuku doing? To his mother? Momo felt a wave of revulsion pass through her, dismissing her fleeting fantasy from mere seconds ago.

Ochako opened her eyes. Bruised and exhausted, Momo knew she couldn't make out everything happening around her. "Trust him," Ochako whispered, pleading.

Momo leaned over her. She had no choice, given Ochako's vice-like grip. "Rest," Momo whispered.

"Trust him," Ochako repeated. Her well-wet eyes stared up into Momo's. Momo returned Ochako's gaze, impressed that the woman's grip was so firm in her condition. The brunette was determined and on fire despite being lost with pain and delirium. "Izuku will save us."

"We do, Uraraka," Mina reassured her, sitting up to wipe Ochako's face before placing the cold press on her forehead. "We know he will."

"He died for me," the brunette said, twin rivers flowing from her eyes: no wracks or sobs, just an unending supply of water and sorrow.

"Poor thing," Midnight said as she turned onto a highway. "She's not making a bit of sense."

Momo raised an eyebrow, comparing the Izuku on-screen to the one she met days ago before he left with the Chrysalis and Ochako. Maybe Ochako wasn't talking nonsense. They wouldn't know until later.

"Oh, Ochako," Mina whispered, running a hand over the brunette's forearm.

Then they all heard it, the one-word interruption in that familiar yet monotone machine-voice.

"I," it said through their earpieces, then it stopped. Momo found it interesting that it didn't transmit through the car's speakers. The computer-translation is of Izuku's signals was missing from the video feed sent by Ochako's earpiece, or Momo's, if you considered that she made it.

Momo concentrated on Izuku's face, wondering what on Earth was happening over there.

{}

Inko blinked, unable to understand, yet hope fueled her senses as though intoxicating her with potent adrenaline. How could this be her son? How could this bronze-clad giant, this wall of muscle with cruel, burning eyes, be her gentle child?

All Might asked the same question in his own way, but it was the demon woman, Mara, that confirmed it. Kneeling, she uttered a phrase in that dreadful language, but one word stuck out from all the others.

Izuku.

It wasn't a question anymore, not for Inko.

Holt salty tears burned Inko's eyes, mingling with ash-laden smoke from his sudden appearance, the shockwave littering the air with debris.

"Izuku," she whispered, reaching from where she knelt. Her knees bled and complained, but she ignored them. Her joints ached from being tossed about by the demoness then buffeted by the debris from Izuku's arrival, but if this was Izuku, if this was her boy, then none of that mattered.

The well-dressed woman, the only one still clean and manicured despite the smoke and ashes raining down, grimaced hatefully as she glanced over to Inko. Mara uttered something for Izuku's ears alone, a barbed exchange judging by her tone, but he ignored her, barking back a curt reply as he turned to face Inko.

He glowed, yet despite his radiance Inko made out his features quickly, parsing out the similarities and differences from her son, the face she knew and loved. She stared, both in hope and awe, as he walked towards her, brushing past All Might as he did. He didn't spare the hero a passing glance, instead kneeling next to her while regarding her analytically.

This wasn't how Inko pictured their reunion when she imagined it.

"Izuku," she scrambled to sit upright, to look him in the eye. "It's you, isn't it?"

His smile never reached his eyes. It struck Inko like cold morning wind on her face. "Mother," he spoke formally, distantly. "I'm afraid this isn't the best time for us to reunite. I have work to do."

Not the best time? "Izuku, please," she begged. "Don't leave. Don't go with them. Don't be whatever they make you into, please!"

All Might pressed a fist hard against the asphalt, rising to stand behind the man Inko knew was her son. He was going to say something, but Izuku simply raised a hand, signaling that the hero should stay silent.

Mara's grimace of frustration shifted into a smile, one that grew with each passing moment, savoring their misery. Your son is lost to you, those cruel eyes said. He's ours now. Forever. Ours.

No! Inko refused to believe it. Her boy might look different, more muscular, and meaner on the outside, but he was her Izuku! Her jaw and lips trembled. "Izuku, please. Don't leave me. I love you."

She reached towards his face, and he flinched. He took a sword to the chest without blinking, but when his mother reached up to caress his cheek, he recoiled. Fear and pain flashed in his eyes, driving a dagger deep into Inko's heart. How could the person she loved most in the world flinch from her like this? How? Why?

Mara's smile grew enough to show flat, large teeth hidden away behind her painted lips. Her human face gave way as it thinned while her eyes grew larger, contorting her facade into an expression of alien joy and malice. When Inko glanced her way, the face restored itself to a mask of painted geisha-like composure, the smile small and dainty. Inko wasn't fooled, knowing it wasn't just her imagination.

"I won't leave you, mother," Izuku didn't smile. His face was a bronze mask with fire-lit eyes. What did he see when he looked at her? "You're coming with me."

Inko suddenly remembered. The demons told her she'd accompany him to their world. "You'll take me with you? I won't lose you?"

"Will you tell her, Prince Izuku?" Mara didn't hide the sadistic glee in her voice. "Or will it be a surprise?"

Inko's heart stopped, refusing to go on with this madness her world turned into, spiraling outside her control. Was this man still her son? Was there more cruelty waiting for her? Please, she prayed, I love my son. Don't let him hurt me. Anyone else, let them break me, even kill me, but not my son. I couldn't bear it.

Izuku's eyes widened. Some hidden revelation dawned on him, but Inko had no idea what it was.

"What do you have planned for her?" All Might growled out the venom in his voice, thickly, menacingly, despite how powerless he was.

"You're coming with me," Izuku spoke coldly, his look of amazement gone as his eyes bored into her coldly.

"Izuku," Inko began but never finished.

Before she could react, even to flinch, he moved far too quickly, throwing an arm forward to her. He didn't embrace his mother in his arms but drew his shadow forward like a net, capturing her in a well of darkness—spider-like strands of black energy coiled around her, ice-cold against her skin.

After acclimating to Izuku's light, sharp against the twilight of their world, the darkness he threw over her was deeper, blacker, than anything she could comprehend. None of it, though, was as bleak or as cold as knowing that her son was the one banishing her into eternal night.

As the shadow withdrew back into Izuku's clothes, there was no sign of Midoriya Inko. She was gone.

"What did you do? Midoriya! What did you do to her?" Toshinori limped forward, anger fueling him while he ignored his pain.

Izuku stood and regarded the man, looking him over for the first time as if only now realizing he was there. Toshinori glared at him, wondering just how thoroughly these monsters corrupted the boy he met just days ago.

"That's none of your business, hero." The demonic Prince sneered before moving his eyes past All Might, ignoring him as irrelevant. The light about him flared up in rapid bursts but stopped quickly when he spared a glance to his copy, before moving on to lock eyes with Mara.

"I," was the only word All Might heard, the robotic voice in his earpiece reciting whatever Izuku was about to say.

All Might glared forward, refusing to look at anyone but young Midoriya. That single word, just one snippet, was enough to tell him that Izuku intended to resist his new patrons. What was his plan? Was he going to fight for them?

Was there hope?

He fought down a defiant smile, grimacing instead. The first thing Young Midoriya did upon arrival was to save his life, all while pretending it was just a coincidence, a happy accident. Then he hid his mother away, once again donning a mask of cruelty.

It was an act. It had to be an act!

I misjudged you, Midoriya, and not for the first time. It will be the last, I swear it. I'll never doubt your intentions again. Toshinori's heart swelled with shame and pride equally, the twin forces of his self-revulsion and his admiration for Izuku's duplicitous heroism roiling like a storm in his chest.

The Demon-Prince grabbed All Might's chin, forcing the older man to face forward and meet Izuku's burning gaze. Those fingers, hot, metallic, cruel, moved past his jawline down to encase Toshinori's neck.

Please be the hero I know you wanted to become, the fallen hero prayed.

The emerald-eyed demon hissed out a series of words All Might had no way of understanding, forced to stand there like cattle for inspection while the two demons spoke about him.

{}

"You removed his collar," the Prince observed. He didn't glance Mara's way, focusing hateful eyes on the hero that failed him, that cast him aside for the demons to collect. "Why?"

"I'm executing him as part of our deal with the humans. They broke their truce with us and sought to kill you," Mara raised her sleeve-covered hand over her nose and mouth. Her other hand rested on the ground, covering the hilt of Sondok's sword. Izuku didn't look at the blade directly, not wanting her to know he recognized it. That meant Sondok was nearby, dematerialized. That could be a problem.

"We're here to enslave them, Mara, not kill them off," the Prince reminded her while turning Toshinori's head to the side, examining the man's gaunt features. How long ago was it that he idolized this man? He seemed so small, so insignificant, now. "Are they even a threat worth the dignity of an execution? It seems too ornate a formality for them."

"Deals are deals. Contracts are contracts," Mara's smile was audible. "It was all a deal your mother, acting as regent during your metamorphosis, devised. Speaking of her, where did you send her? I don't sense her anywhere."

Izuku smiled despite the chime ringing in his heart, alerting him of Mara's deception. He'd deal with that later.

Of course, you don't sense her, you lying bitch. I didn't dematerialize her to put her into Sondok's custody. She's beyond your reach. Izuku didn't say any of this, but he wanted to. "I do not need a regent anymore," was his vague reply. It seemed to satisfy the demon for now.

"I'm altering the contract," were the last words Izuku spoke in Malfean, switching to Japanese for the remainder. "Listen well, hero."

Toshinori's eyes never left Izuku's.

"You serve me now. Disobey, and you will die immediately. That's not a threat that I will kill you. That's the nature of what I'm doing to you right this instant," Izuku hissed out the words, pouring as much venomous promise into them as possible.

The hero clamped his jaw shut, wincing as he bared his teeth. To his credit, he didn't close his eyes, though they flinched. Not many would remain composed like that while allowing someone to brand their neck.

Izuku removed his superheated fingers, eyeing his work. Smoke rose from the hero's skin, revealing the mark Izuku left there, two crossed swords, the emblem of Malfeas. The scar-burned blades pulsated with unholy green light. The magic there would last until it fulfilled its dark purpose, a constant reminder that Toshinori's life, spared, for now, was still forfeit.

"Do you think I'm afraid of death?" All Might glared.

Prince Izuku smiled at the man's defiance. "I think you'll cling to the hope that you can help people while you're alive. As long as you have that hope burning in your chest, you'll be useful to me."

With that said, Izuku reached down and grabbed the chains that bound Toshinori's wrist. The artifact feared the Prince's anger, unfastening immediately, freeing the mortal. With a tug, the chain rattled as it released Toshinori's ankles.

All Might's strength returned, first as a trickle, then a deluge. Muscles enlarged as smoke billowed up from his body. His cheekbones and brows jutted forward as his face restructured, obscuring his eyes.

"Prince Izuku," Mara regarded him with concern. "You have every right to this, but why? His spirit isn't broken."

"Not yet," the Prince smiled. He turned to Toshinori, amused at his reaction. The man was in awe, hardly believing his Quirk was his again. Despite the stump where his hand used to be, the lacerated burns dotting his face and torso, he was once more allowed to become All Might, the Symbol of Peace.

Izuku almost pitied him. Still, there was work to do. "Tell them," he spoke, looking up to meet All Might's deep pitted eyes. "Command everyone to surrender to me. Tell them to trust me, to have faith in me. Do that, and I'll put an end to the slaughter."

Mara's eyes twitched. For the briefest moment, her expression was one of unrestrained rage. It passed. Her placid mask of amusement returned. "Is there time for such games? Shouldn't we get you back home to Malfeas?"

Izuku laughed. "Oh, Mara, I just arrived from there. Can't I revel in my power for a bit?"

Her smile emerged, forced like she just finished eating a foul dish but didn't want to offend the cook. "Of course, dear Prince."

Izuku wondered where the other two demonic lieutenants were. He knew Mara's politeness wouldn't last much longer. Once their numerical advantage over him was assured, her attitude would shift abruptly. He didn't have much time.

Izuku wore an expression of amused dismissiveness at Mara's discomfort, thankful that he no longer could sweat, that his bowels couldn't rumble with anxiety. It made the act much easier to pull off.

While Izuku fidgeted below the surface, the Prince smirked.

{}

Gasping for breath, Inko clawed her way out from the darkness, strands of sticky shadow-substance clinging to her as she tore her way to freedom.

The ground was cold, but it was infinitely warmer than the discarded cocoon beside her. She looked around, trying to orient herself, only to find she was nowhere familiar. The land around her was a formless, cold mass of sand. The sky above lit itself up with a myriad of stars, shining down without a shred of warmth to their light.

Was she back in that terrible desert? Did Izuku send her here, all alone? Would he join her soon, or did he leave her here to die when that terrible sun rose? Would she die of thirst, heat, or something faster?

Did he love her anymore, even a tiny fraction of him? Despite telling herself to conserve the water in her body, Inko wept, dotting the cold sand beneath her with her tears.

"Izuku," she curled in on herself, imagining her baby boy in her arms while trying to stay warm. "My boy. My darling boy. What did they do to you?"

His bright shining face, so eager to grow and venture into the world, was gone. The iron-jawed tyrant that replaced him was a stranger to her, one that sent her to a strange land. Was there anything left of the kindhearted heroic soul that once drove him forward?

Was it her fault that the light in his eyes went out, that he wanted to die? Was this some cruel karma, some just retribution for neglecting what her son needed?

"No, mother, none of this was fair. It wasn't fair to you, to me, or anyone," Izuku's voice carried on the breeze. It sounded like a whisper in her ear, both distant and close.

She bolted upright, scrambling to stand despite the shock of cold air against her skin. "Izuku!" she called out into the alien night. "Izuku! I'm here!" She stumbled forward, feet numb from, sapped of all warmth from the frigid breeze.

"I am here, mother," the whisper guided her, a distinct direction to follow. "I am here."

I am here.

Oh, how she remembered those days, her son, always sitting eagerly as he watched video after video, collected figure after figure. The light in his eyes returned day after day, even after his father left, a miracle she never expected. She longed to see his shining face again. "Izuku! I can't see you! Where are you?"

Sand rose from a nearby dune, forming into a manikin of salt. It was small, short, thin, much like Izuku used to be when he was younger before he outgrew her height. Nightmares, memories, flashed through Inko's heart. Was this Cecelyne lulling her into some trick? Despite herself, she hyperventilated, gasping for breath as she stumbled backward, away from the doll-shaped salt.

"Mother," his voice, so familiar yet so out of place, reached forward to console her. "You're safe. No deals here, no bargains, no wishes or wants. All we desire is to keep you safe while," the salt idol tilted his petrified head to the side, if the mineral construct could be called a head. "While we do our work."

She hesitated before approaching, fearing some trick, some demon wanting to torment her. What work? She wanted to ask, but she stopped herself. The work you'll do for them? For those monsters?

There was enough starlight for Inko to make out the salt-figure's mask. It was her son's face, though smiling artificially, stuck in a single lifeless expression. "Come, mother," the voice inside the construct urged her. "It's safer up ahead."

He guided her, holding a deceptively strong arm behind her back as he helped her climb the dune. At the apex, she saw a shimmering shadow extend below them. Beyond that was a bright green glow, like a bonfire in the night. Her eyes adjusted to the sudden intrusion, finally making out the lake and the little oasis beyond. There were people there. Talking, moving, laughing, but people, nonetheless.

"Izuku," Inko whispered, not understanding any of this. She turned to the salt-boy by her side. "It is you, isn't it? Inside this thing?"

He tilted his head, nodding. "We're Izuku, yes. You're safe here, mother, here with us."

"I don't understand," she shivered against the night.

Whispering, flowing, appearing from the night air, a gust in the shape of a running child sped past her. "We're Izuku! You're here! You're here, mother! Let's run! Let's play!"

"Run along to the encampment," the salt-idol gestured the other Izuku away. "Mother can't keep up with you. You know that."

"Look at me, mother! Look at me! Look how fast I am!" and with that, the almost invisible child ran off into the distance, leaping and bounding, clearing the lake in a single stride. Or perhaps, he was simply so light that the water couldn't drown him.

As the salt-and-sand version of her son guided her down to the water's edge, Inko stared forward, bewildered. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"This is our soul, mother," Izuku's voice wrapped about her, as comfortable as any blanket. "This is the safest place to keep you, far away from anyone's reach. No one will harm you here."

A looming shadow emerged from the water, bobbing up the surface with a slushing noise as the waters gave it up. The structure floated towards Inko, lazily drifting along the water until, on closer inspection, Inko saw the boat for what it was.

It was the strangest chimera she could imagine. One part boat, one part eel, explaining how it moved in the water, and one part boy. The bow was decorated not with some figurehead but a living extension of the vessel. The torso and face were Izuku's, just as he was three years ago at the age of fifteen. His arms were tentacles, and his legs were gone, fused into the ship behind him.

She gasped in horror, covering her mouth before reaching forward, wondering what happened to him, how painful this was. "Oh, Izuku, oh my boy, oh!"

Inko ran forward, hugging him, not caring about his shiny damp skin or how cold it was against her, soaking into her blouse. "Oh, Izuku!" She wept, adding the salt of her tears to the water on his smooth, rubbery skin.

He wrapped her gently in an odd, fingerless, boneless embrace. "Mother," he whispered, allowing his face to nuzzle into her cheek and neck. "Come along. It's freezing out here. Let's get you over to the fire," he urged her but didn't let go.

Hard as stone, gentle as a breeze, another hand rested on her back. Inko turned her head, looking at the inhuman salt-doll. "Are you both Izuku? I'm so confused."

"There will be time for questions, but first, the fire waits," the chimerical ship smiled warmly. "Come, it's faster this way."

The sand-salt construct stepped forward into the water, his feet eroding at the perimeter, salt spilling in to make a brackish puddle amid the crystal-clear lake. "Let me help you on," was all he said.

"Izuku, your feet!" Internal alarms blared in her heart, watching her son injure himself like that.

"Hurry, mother," the ship spoke again. "He's generous to the point of foolishness. You won't get him back onto dry land until you're safely aboard."

Driven by maternal instinct more than anything, Inko allowed her sons to help her onto the little boat, her feet never touching the icy pool beneath her. The cold was worse when she sat down as if the icy depths below somehow leached life and energy from her through the boat's surface.

Izuku's face turned to look at her from the bow, his spin turning with unnatural flexibility. "She's aboard, brother. Go back to your vigil."

The statuesque Izuku stepped backward onto the dry sand before sinking into it, out of Inko's sight. "Izuku," she reached, whispering as he disappeared. Before she could ask where he went off to, if he'd join them again, the boat, her other son, cast off without the need for oars or sails. A finned tail undulated behind them, steering and propelling them toward the approaching shore.

The fire danced as if the center of a lavish gala, a massive emerald bonfire. A bronze pit, no, shards of floating bronze plates danced around the fire, swimming in the air. Reeds and trees crowded the shore, marking the water's edge, obscuring the fire and the dancers reveling around it. Already, waves of warmth eased the tingling numbness in Inko's face and fingers.

Was this her son? Where was her son?

"He said, I mean," Inko struggled, not knowing how to call these apparitions that each claimed to be Izuku.

"We're all, each of us, part of Izuku's soul, mother," the ship spoke, smiling for her benefit. His teeth were pearls. "You met the two oldest among us. I'm one of the youngest, I suppose. We're still sorting it out, but for now, those two are Salt and Wind."

"And you?" she asked.

"You can call me Sea, though for now, all I am is a small lake," he grinned at her confusion, his tentacle-arms quivering with excitement.

"You're not the boat. You're the water, aren't you?" Inko marveled.

The arms clapped together, making a wet squishing sound. "Exactly! This is just a way for me to help you across. As much as I want to hold you, I'd drown you if I did," his smile saddened her.

Izuku was a hugger. He always was, deep in his core, and she knew it. The two of them were endless with their affection. She reached forward, taking the tip of a tentacle into her hand, feeling how cold it was. "This is water, isn't it?"

Her son nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid I can't feel anything. You're more like a drop of pressure on the water's surface if that makes any sense."

Damn the cold, Inko determined to herself. She leaned over the side of the ship and rand her fingers into the icy fluid, breaking the surface and reaching well past her wrist.

The skin of a massive creature grazed past her, far larger than a lake like this should hold. She stared downward, fearful for the first time. How deep was this lake? What lived down there? Was this real? Could deserts and lakes be part of Izuku like they claimed?

"You'd be surprised what souls look like on the inside, mother," the boat, Sea, said to her. "Come, we're almost there. There's someone we'd like you to meet."

Shallow sandy shores greeted them, filled, teeming with life. Bananas, dates, pomegranates, and other fruits dangled from the trees jutting up from the sandy soil where lake and desert met. Fish swam among the root systems, hiding among the shadows as light danced among the trees.

Salt stood on the shore, emerging quickly from the sands beyond the lake's reach. A tall figure made of crystal and fire stood next to him. Unlike the others, this one had no face. He resembled a chandelier, a dancing array of opal-light and floating crystals, male, but only in the vaguest of shapes.

"Mother," the newcomer spoke in ten thousand whispers. All of them were versions of Izuku that Inko remembered. She plucked out variations of him from different parts of his childhood as his voice grew and changed with him. "Are you well?"

She nodded. "I'm cold and hurt, but I'm more worried about you, Izuku. I don't understand what's happened to you, what you've turned into."

Inko reached forward, hoping he'd take her hand and help her onto dry land.

He did more than that. "Truth," he intoned, and the others nodded. Inko wasn't sure what just happened, but the moment passed. Salt stepped forward, helping her onto the shore while keeping her feet free of the icy water below.

Inko turned back to the boat. "Sea," she addressed him, and he raised a smile for her. "Will I see you again?"

Sea held his boneless arms far apart. His smile could melt glaciers. Maybe it would, one day. "I surround this island, the heart of our soul. None exit or enter without crossing me. You're safe here, mother, safer than any other place in existence."

The implied message, that Izuku would protect her here, warmed Inko's heart despite the biting cold. "Thank you, Izuku. I," she hesitated, faltering on the alien, the strange, the otherworldliness of her son. However, he was her son, if only a fractal segment of him. She didn't understand with her head, but her heart spoke differently. She looked from one strange face to another. "I love you, Izuku!"

"Truth," the construct of crystal-born-fire whispered out, awe and emotion drowned as the cacophony of voices were too varied to discern. "Come, mother."

Sea smiled one last time before melting, transforming his boat-body back into water and merging again with the lake below, his true self, Inko mused. He wasn't gone, just out of sight.

"What's your name, then?" Inko took hold of diamond-hard fingers, too long for a human hand, as she stared into the myriad lights in the fire-core of this creature. She reminded herself that this was somehow part of Izuku, despite being the most inhuman thing she'd met so far.

"Facet," the whispers rose from a murmur to a shout. "We are the third emanation, after Salt and Wind."

Inko stopped walking, staring ahead as the clearing beyond the trees opened up to her eyes. What she assumed were dancing figures were, for the most part, stone columns. Light and shadow danced among them, giving the impression of movement. A metal dome rested precariously above the columns, teetering, floating, as it turned slowly above the stone fingers.

"Why are you so different from each other?" She addressed Salt and Facet in turn before directing most of her attention onto Salt, whose mask at least served as a face. "You said you're part of Izuku, that this is his soul. Why is this place so foreign?"

Wind rushed past them, laughing as he darted among the columns before running along the surface of Sea, his younger brother.

"We should discuss this once you are warm," Facet began, his whispers scouring Inko's ears.

"For now, though," Salt's voice, so singular and potent, was still infinitely more familiar to her, sounding the most like the adult Izuku she loved and remembered. "Just know that we all, though born in a single moment, died as part of your son, only to be reborn in the image of the Primordials, etched back into his soul with their spiritual genes injected into us."

Like a crystal bell, Facet rang out a beautiful sounding note, one that extended, freezing that moment in time.

"False," Facet whispered, the murmuring voices sounding like her son when he made his notebooks, muttering to himself. "Salt was reborn before his death. The deception was not intentional, though. Linear time is not as meaningful here as you are used to."

"Death?" Inko was alarmed. Confused. "How did you die?"

"Adorjan," Salt said with enough finality that Inko knew it was the only explanation she'd get.

"Come," Facet offered. "It's warmer inside."

Inko trudged through the sands, flanked by the two alien versions of Izuku. Her mind roiled with confusion and pain. What did those monsters do to her son? What happened to him while everyone else was fighting and dying?

She tried to bury that thought before, to focus on what she could do for him, but now the idea wouldn't leave her alone.

After she passed the first pair of columns, Inko appreciated how massive this structure was. Their apartment building could comfortably fit inside without scraping the domed roof. She craned her neck back to take it in, observing too many holes in the ceiling for her to count, each fitted with a gem-like lens.

With a gasp, Inko puzzled out that the stars in the sky above were nothing but a projection made using the bonfire ahead and this dome to filter the light. How bizarre. Why was so much effort made to give this place stars? Did that mean there was nothing above them, ever?

"She's here! Mom! You're here!" a deep voice bellowed from somewhere deep within the open-aired chamber. "Come! Warm yourself!"

Her feet moved before she thought about them. Her movements were confident, her stride powerful. Where did this energy come from, she wondered? Why did this new voice compel her? She didn't even think or hesitate before acting.

Was it something supernatural, or just the fact that this was the first voice to call her mom, not mother?

A massive furnace, not just a simple fire, loomed in front of her. Brass panels danced about it, casting shadows outward among the dunes and columns. The heat was immense. Inko couldn't imagine getting much closer, but thankfully she didn't have to. There was a small crowd not far from her, and she searched the new faces there for the voice's source.

There was a black beast, the size of a bear, sleeping on its side, huge tusks prominently jutting out from its mouth. One moment it took the shape of a man, the next, it resembled a wild animal she couldn't identify, never sticking to just one shape as light twisted around it. It hurt to look at yet drew her eye like a train wreck, forcing her to pay more attention to it than she wanted to.

However, that didn't stop her from turning her eyes to the people sitting nearby, assuming they were people in the same sense as the other parts of Izuku. Leaning onto the creature's belly, Inko saw her son as he was just a few years ago. Green hair. Freckles. That charming smile. He wore his old school uniform, his backpack discarded nearby, while he held out a pencil and one of his notebooks for someone.

As distracting as it was, finally seeing Izuku again, Inko couldn't help but notice her. The little girl was so small, so frail, that Inko feared she'd blow away in a soft breeze. Her head was hairless, shaved clean. Her charcoal-black eyes had a haunted quality to them, despite her gentle smile. Her skin was pale but not in a healthy way, like she was missing something, and it showed just by looking at her. Her cheekbones and the shape of her eyes told Inko there was no way this child was Japanese. Her only clothing piece, a pure white shift wrapped about her, gave no clue what culture she called home.

"Mother," her son smiled, waving her over. Inko approached eagerly, longingly, as she embraced this opportunity to spend time with her son despite how strange it all was.

Then she saw her. She was so focused on Izuku that she failed to notice her until now. Unfortunately, the demonic temptress that snared Izuku into this whole mess saw Inko first and walked toward her, her hips swaying with each movement as she glidingly strode across the fire-warmed sands.

Inko held as still as death.

"Honored Mother," the lavender-skinned woman bowed with an ornate style, a flourish showing spread-open fingers. "It's a supreme pleasure to meet you." She rose to meet Inko's eyes, smiling.

She dared to smile.

"My name is," she started.

"I know who you are," Inko spat as she stepped forward, angling her head back to glare into the woman's pitch-black eyes.

"Mother," her son chided her as if she were the child and he the adult. "Now isn't the time for that kind of tone."

Inko glanced away from the sparring eye-lock she maintained with the whore that lured her son to his doom to see him cradling the small girl's head in his arms as she curled in towards him. "Mother, come, kneel here next to us," he patted a spot on the sand. Fruits and vegetables littered the ground around them, but the site he chose was clean.

Inko shot the skimpily dressed demon a sharp glare before getting on her knees next to her son. "Izuku," she whispered, smiling. "Who is this?" she inclined towards the child.

"This is Nozomi," Izuku smiled warmly. "She's the newest member of our family."

"Family?" Inko choked on the word. "Izuku? What do you mean?" What kind of relationship was this? Did he expect Inko to adopt her? Did he want a little sister? Was now the time for something like this?

He turned to kiss the top of the girl's head. "Nozomi," he cooed for her before saying something to her in that dreadful language.

She peered outward, locking eyes with Inko. The girl trembled as if cold, thinning her lips tightly. Izuku prompted her again, and the child sat upright, no longer leaning on him for support. She bowed forward and spoke in a small, fragile voice. "I am happy to meet you, Master Inko. Please let me home."

Her Japanese was stiff, formal, and somewhat broken. Her fear was unmistakable. Inko's heart bled from pity.

"Oh, you poor dear," Inko scooted forward on her knees. "You're scared to death, aren't you?"

"She barely understands you, mother," Izuku smiled at Inko while taking Nozomi's hand. "She doesn't speak any language known on Earth except the little greeting she's been practicing and the names of some fruits. There's nowhere else for her to go."

"Izuku, that's a huge responsibility. Are you ready for this?" Inko leaned forward to take hold of his hand. It was cold to the touch. The air around him was warmer than he was.

"Shadow, mother," Salt spoke up, intruding into their conversation. Facet remained nearby, staring off into the distance. Wait, was that an introduction?

When Inko turned her eyes back onto Izuku's face, he was pale, no, colorless. His hair was black, and his skin was white beyond reason.

"I'm sorry we're like this, mother," the shadow of Izuku said to her. "We've changed, too much and too quickly, for anyone to understand. The titan that contributed to me was one of the worst. He altered our memories. Please give us time and space to figure everything out."

"Izuku," she refused to call him Shadow. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we don't trust our memories of you," he said sadly. In Inko's peripheral vision, the lavender demoness pouted. "We don't trust our memories of her, either" the colorless reflection of her son smiled at the irony of the demon's discomfort.

"What about her, little Nozomi?" Inko asked, her voice as quiet as a mouse hiding from an owl.

The child looked up, prompted by the sound of her name. She smiled uncertainly, her eyes telling Inko everything she needed, every question bubbling into the poor girl's head. Will you accept me? Will you hurt me? Will I be safe with you?

"We met her after our memories were perverted," Salt spoke up. He knelt next to the girl and offered her a pomegranate, one already sliced in half. She only took one side of the fruit, so Salt gave Inko the other. Inko took it, grateful to have something so occupy her hands if not for something to eat. "That lets us know that what we know of her is the truth. She's the only human being we confidently know."

She's our anchor, Inko read between the lines. "Then let's bring her home with us."

"It's starting!" Wind called out gleefully, running in among the pillars. "Come on! Everyone, the game is starting!"

The great beast slumbering behind Izuku's shadow roused, lumbering forward to the perimeter of the dome, brushing destructively past several columns. He never noticed Inko kneeling there.

"Truth," Facet said before running to join the beast on their way out.

"What's happening? What's going on?" Inko asked desperately, lost and confused, having just gotten here.

The wind rushed up to meet her, a dance of crimson and laughter. She made out a face, a boy's, but it all moved too quickly for her to pick apart the finer details. "Don't worry, mom! Just stay here! We'll come back and play!"

"Wait here with Nozomi and Alhalmalhat. You're safe, and when we get back, we'll explain everything," the Shadow said as he stood to join his brothers. He kissed the little girl once more on top of her head, whispering something comforting in a language Inko hoped she'd never learn. The child nodded and smiled for him, waving as he turned to leave.

"Tell me what's going on!" she demanded, standing up and addressing her sons.

Facet and Salt turned to face her, but Wind ran off, giggling.

A rumbling, crackling sound erupted behind her as heat enveloped her. Inko turned and watched as a burning man strode out from the center of the emerald blaze. He held a long spear over his shoulder, walking casually as sand erupted into glass under his feet. Plates of brass rained down onto him, soldering into a humanoid shape, containing the fire inside.

"It's simple, mom," the fire-formed man spoke, using the voice of her adult son, the young man she clung to days ago before he vanished. His smile was molten slag, his laughter the sound of furnace bellows. "It's time to kill some bad guys."

{}

"Now," Izuku prompted him. "Say it with feeling."

Toshinori's lip curled up with disgust. An act or not, this betrayed everything he stood for. "Everyone," he gazed into the doppelganger's eyes, shamefully aware of the camera attached to the demon's earpiece.

He didn't want to imagine the households, the people, thousands of them, staring in terrified awe at him, wondering if All Might would cave into Prince Izuku's demand for surrender. "On behalf of the Japanese Hero Association, I surrender to the terms presented by Prince Izuku of House Ligier. I call on all heroes in Musutafu to do the same and the civilians under their care and protection. If you are in the city and can hear me, then I urge you to," he choked, the words strangling him like refuse on his palate.

Mara stared at him from one flank, eyeing him with undisguised fascination. Did she grasp the irony? That Toshinori would've refused this request for her when his life was on the line?

All Might didn't respond well to threats. Promises, though, he could bank on those. Izuku traded in pledges, oaths from the moment he arrived. Even now, Izuku smirked in All Might's peripheral vision, covering the flank opposite of Mara.

I'll protect all the humans, that smirk promised. It's not free, though. All you have to do is serve me.

Forever.

All Might got down on one knee, baring his teeth, revolted with himself. "Just like me, bend the knee," he spat the words out, roaring over his instincts. "Pray to him for protection! Prince Izuku! Save us, all of us, from the bloodshed! We attacked you while you were in your Chrysalis and don't deserve your mercy! Please let us pay for it," he gagged.

"Say it," Izuku prompted. "Don't be coy."

"Let us pay for our mistakes with service, not blood! Please!" Toshinori shut his eyes. Hot tears, salted with shame, burned his face. All the strength of his Quirk was his again, yet he felt infinitely weak. Even though Izuku removed the chains, All Might was utterly helpless.

This wasn't a problem he could punch through.

The Prince strode forward, well within the camera's view. "That was well said. You have earned my protection, human. Rest under the shield of my power and know that you are safe in my service." He rested a hand on all Might's shoulder before turning to face the doppelganger.

Without looking up, All Might marveled that he could see the light shining from Izuku's eyes. "What happens now, Young Midoriya?" he said, slower, deeper, more desperately than he wanted to sound.

"Young Midoriya," Izuku mused aloud, rolling the name across his tongue while tilting his head.

Mara unfolded her fan, covering the bottom half of her face. Her eyes narrowed from the smile hidden from All Might's view. Even on one knee, she was impossible to ignore, more like a coiled snake than a supplicant should be.

Before Toshinori could puzzle out what amused her so much, he found himself covered in splattered blood, black viscera raining on him.

With just the slightest tug of his fingers, a come-hither motion, Izuku pulled the doppelganger forward using some unseen power. The copy launched as if loaded on a catapult, falling, flinging into Izuku's reach.

With a flash of smiling fangs and fire-lit eyes, Izuku tore his hand from the hero's shoulder before ripping the tumbling demon in half, gripping the copy by his neck and lower spine before pulling the creature apart.

It barely had time to gurgle, let alone scream, before it died, gushing blood all over Toshinori's face and clothes. His knee rested in a warm black puddle of putrid gore.

"That was Young Midoriya," Izuku declared, crushing a section of the demon's spine in his grip.

All Might flinched, snapping his eyes up to look this brutal figure in the face. Was it a mistake to trust him?

"Make no mistake, All Might. You serve Prince Izuku and no other." He licked the blood from his hands, smoking as they superheated with emerald fire, cooking away the polluting remains of the monster he just killed so casually.

Toshinori's nose filled with the hot, copper-rich smell of burnt blood and overheated shit. "I'll remember that."

Mara giggled at All Might's discomfort. She watched her follower get murdered in front of her, a being under her command, and she fucking laughed. Toshinori's jaw muscled shut, clamping down on the hate festering in his heart.

Another twitch of Izuku's finger summoned the earpiece from the fallen demon's face. Toshinori stared down at Young Midoriya's blank, lifeless face as all color drained from the demonic creature's facsimile. Slowly, the features melted away into black formlessness.

"His face bothered me. It wasn't even a good copy," Izuku spat dismissively before securing the communication device to his ear. There was irony in that, taking it from his demonic imitation, inheriting it through murder.

"Did you have to kill him?" Toshinori heard himself, raggedly coughing out the words.

Izuku smiled as his skin lit up, burning off the remaining blood splatters, flaking them off as ash on the wind. As quickly as he flared up, he restored himself to bronze perfection, his clothes restored, the red-heated sword mark from Mara's attack missing as if it never happened.

Izuku smiled warmly. The friendliness was put off only by the fangs in his mouth and cruelty in his eyes. "No, I didn't have to. Cruelty, though, is the currency of the powerful."

Mara's smiling eyes flared at that phrase.

"Don't look at her," Izuku commanded. "You're better to direct your eyes to my feet."

Grimacing, All Might did as directed. If this would save lives, he'd dance to Izuku's tune.

Izuku stretched, cracking bones and limbering his joints. His anima-light flared, strobing around him as he did this. If not for his downcast eyes, All Might would've struggled to see clearly.

"You're a terrible actor, so just look angry with my feet. Stop." The mechanical voice droned in his ear. "Now that they don't have this, I can talk. Stop."

It was an act! He was right about Young Midoriya! All Might glared at those feet like they were All For One's ugly face. "What happens now, Prince Izuku?" Toshinori coated his words with as much malicious compliance as he could muster.

"Good. Stop." The computer encouraged him in his ear as Izuku, kneeling to grip All Might's face, strobed blinding emerald light into his eyes. Monotone, emotionless, the voice was a whisper only for him despite what other heroes might overhear, a secret plot only Izuku and Toshinori shared. "Hate me even when you obey. Stop. I am one of them. Stop. They must believe that. Stop."

Izuku angled All Might to look up, to stare into Izuku's demonic eyes. To his horror, the experience wasn't unlike staring into the sun. His eyes welled up, protecting themselves from the twin fires Izuku used to see.

The Demon Prince smiled cruelly as his newest servant. "Many will refuse to believe that All Might serves the Prince. Let's show them that my reach is far longer than those chains," he gestured with his chin at the discarded black bindings that once restrained All Might's access to One for All.

His gut churned where his stomach used to be. "Just tell me what you want." Toshinori snarled.

"There's a hospital not far from here," Izuku stood to his full height, gazing east through the wrecked streetscape. "Claim it in my name. Expel any humans that don't submit to my protection. They will be my gift to the devas protecting me, but I'll spare those who shelter inside and pray to me. Do this, now, or I will order all of them slaughtered."

"Now," the computer whispered urgently to Toshinori. "Hurry."

Charging away from there without a second thought, Toshinori wept even as he sped past Mara and the wrecked cars that littered the street around them. Even after Izuku was long behind him, All Might's tears flowed with each pounding footstep.

He never got to apologize. All Might never got to say he was sorry. Would he ever get that chance? Would he ever see Young Midoriya be himself again?

Izuku's cruel laughter echoed outward as his glow increased, lighting up the world in sickly green light.

Morse became English. English became emotionless Japanese in Toshinori's ear.

"If we don't play out the part, there is no hope. Stop." Toshinori's tears flowed like rivers. "I will be one of them. Stop. It's the price I'll pay for you. Stop. For all of you. Stop."

No! He wanted to turn around, to beg Izuku to spare himself whatever twisted fate he was dooming himself to, to find another way. Still, his legs hammered the ground, propelling the hero forward for the sake of everyone in that hospital ahead.

"Let the world know!" Izuku's voice rained down like thunder all around. "I am fire! I am the wind! I am the storm! I am death! I am the Prince!"

All Might's heart broke in half.

"Take up defensive positions and get your arm looked at. Stop. This is about to get ugly. Stop. You've not seen them kill indiscriminately yet. Stop. Be the hero. Stop. I'll be the demon. Stop. Let's save as many as we can. Stop." There were more feelings packed in those mechanical words than Toshinori would have ever guessed until then. Each sentence was like a blow to his face, worse than any explosion by Sondok or insult from Mara.

He'd go back and put himself back in those chains if it meant Young Midoriya would be free again.

Young Midoriya! All Might prayed, deep in his soul, for the salvation of not many, but one. He desperately wanted to save Young Midoriya from himself.

"Let the world know!" the Prince called out, impossibly loud and infinitely cruel.

"I am here!" Izuku roared behind Toshinori like a barrage of cannons, but all the hero could hear was a young man's heart breaking into pieces.

I am here for you, Young Midoriya. I'll trust your plan. I'm here, and together, we'll make this right!

{}

The laughter died in Izuku's throat. The act, playing the Prince, exhausted him. He forced villainous mirth to the surface when he roared at All Might, sending the man on his way, whispering the truth in his heart with pulses of light across the twilight of a falling world.

It was so sad he wanted to cry. That was a luxury he'd never have again, completely lacking tears, unneeded for fire-fueled eyes.

Go. Go and save as many people as you can, All Might. Save them from the demons. Save them from me.

This was for the best, Izuku consoled his lonely heart. All Might wouldn't have lived much longer if he stayed. Izuku's plan didn't have room in it for extra pieces on the board. If anyone got in the way, they'd get brutally murdered for their trouble.

Demons had a way of doing that, he grimaced.

Briefly, while branding him, Izuku contemplated casting his shadow across Toshinori, of abducting him into the soul-space he used to hide his mother. No, that wouldn't have worked. It would be too out of character for a Prince. No matter what, even if it cost more lives than Izuku wanted to spend, the plan came first.

Wait. Plan? Izuku puzzled through his thoughts, rifling through memories as he searched for missing fragments. Who came up with the plan? Were there parts of it missing in Izuku's head?

No. Never mind that, Izuku told himself. Stick to your gut. Where memories fail, cling to the one thing you have left. Deep in your soul, you want to save people, from villains, from disasters, and now from demons, too. That hasn't changed. It's the only thing I have left that I can call me.

So, lacking anything else I can say is mine, I'll do the one thing I know I'd want to do no matter how much they've changed me. Saving people is what I am, who I am, the core of my identity.

So, fight, Izuku. Save as many people as possible, the whole world, from these monsters. Some will die, but as long as you save more than you lose, it's a win. Act the part. Smile for the demons. Ad-lib when you don't remember the plan. Most of all, though…

Fight.

"How long do you plan on staring ahead, my Prince?" Despite the honorific nature of her words, Mara's tone was openly hostile.

Ignoring her was dangerous, yet in his mind-cut confusion, he'd stumbled into the error as easily as a child might step on a snake. She stared at him with narrow, murderous eyes, her face obscured by her fan.

Ah yes, Mara was a creature of shadows, a manifestation of darkness. Izuku's anima-light had to be uncomfortable for her. "Is it so uncomfortable, kneeling in front of your Prince?" he asked, falling into the confident persona of a rising Prince of the All Thing Infernal.

Her eyes twitched, transitioning from gentle clarity as they spread farther from each other before settling back to where they belonged on her impersonation of human features. "It is not my knees that concern me, oh great Prince," she seethed like a serpent testing the air. "How long must I endure the indignity of kneeling, groveling here like a worm, waiting for you to acknowledge me?"

Izuku made a show of it, wandering close to her at a leisurely pace before squatting down, keeping his knees far apart as if Mara wouldn't take a cheap shot. She absolutely would if he let her, cutting him from his balls to his chin. Still, he needed to flaunt the difference in their power, if only until he had what he wanted from her. For that, though, he needed her off balance, lulled into his act of loyalty, off-put by his disrespect.

"Isn't it tradition that all three of my guardians greet me, kneel before me, and welcome me as their Prince? Where are the others? Where is Sondok? Where is Mahbagodeth?" Izuku put his hand across his brow as if he could block off the ambient light he generated, a mocking theater-move of searching about for the missing demons.

Mara snapped her fan shut, pressing her lips hard together. "I surely do not know where either of them is, mighty Prince."

Deep in Izuku's breast, a bell chimed. Mara just lied to him. He smiled, showing his fangs off for her benefit. "Don't lie to me, Mara. You know where they are, don't you? I can see through your deception and pour light into the heart of your shadows."

She raised her chin defiantly but didn't rise from her knee. "Light burns out. Darkness always outlasts the light and always will."

Izuku nodded, rising to stand in front of her. This forced her to crane her neck back if she wanted to meet his gaze. "True enough," Izuku conceded. "That doesn't change the fact that you lied to me just now."

Mara's thin lips twitched into a smirk, offering her silence as her only answer to his accusation. Izuku didn't need to look over his shoulder to know. Demons. Dozens of them. They arrived in small cliques of two or three, some clustered by species and others coming in mixed groups.

Hornets buzzed above them. The shadow-mimics gurgled, hungry for their shady respite. Despite their distance, the blood apes filled Izuku's nose with their carrion stench. The longer he waited, the more would arrive here. They wandered in from the wreckage of Takao, and with every arrival, Mara's air of defiance grew.

If Izuku wanted to back off, to be safe and avoid committing to his mad plan, now was the time. Once he set down this road, there would be no way to undo it, to reverse course and return snug and warm to the demonic fold.

The fire in his heart burned, smoldering inside him. He didn't get so far, pass so many tests, by playing it safe.

"Do you think more devas, mere serfs, can intimidate me into distraction, Mara?" his eyes glowed with enough harsh light that some reflected into his retinas. He cast the world in sickly green as he looked about, seeing clearly through the darkness beyond his anima. "Lying to a Prince is still a lie no matter how many of your followers you hide behind." He called out loudly, letting the others here understand that their commanders conflicted with each other.

Mara tilted her head to the side. "Have you gone mad, Prince Izuku? I've killed Exalted before, and there are enough devas here, serfs or otherwise, to slay you without my assistance."

Izuku laughed bitterly, loudly. He continued while Mara stared at him with a growing look of fascinated horror etching into her features.

"Do you think that threat matters one shit to me?" he asked, amused by the shock on her face. "Do you think a whole legion would concern me, much less this cohort?"

He rushed, getting close to her face, stopping just short of touching her. Her eyes widened, the pupils transitioning, extending into doe-like features, a threat response if she had any.

Izuku stared directly into her eyes, watching her contain herself as she reflected his twin firelight back at him. "I sipped at the forbidden Oasis of Cecelyne, The Endless Desert, quenching my thirst at her invitation. I raced with Adorjan, the Silent Wind, and lived. I opened my soul to the Whispering Flame, and my ears bled from her wisdom. I gazed into the eyes of the Ebon Dragon and beheld true darkness within myself. You, however, know all that. You said as much to my emissary."

She clenched her jaw as he leaned in closer, whispering, hissing in her ear like a freshly forged blade in water. "There's more that you don't know, Mara. I crossed Kimbery, the Sea that Marched Against the Flame, and wrestled with Isidoros, the Black Boar that Twists the Skies. At last, I knelt before Malfeas, the Sun King Above All Others. At the end of my journey, the King crowned me a Green Sun Prince before sending me here. So, forgive me if I'm not impressed, Mara, by your beauty or threatened by your prowess. The Creators are, after all, a tough act for you to follow."

He backed away and watched her face contort with all the impossibilities he laid on her. Up till this point, she probably believed that he somehow emerged early, stunted, a runt of a Prince. Rather than surprise her with his power later, he gave her a small warning now, a courtesy he'd pay for, certainly. It's what a loyal Prince would do, though.

"How?" Mara whispered, sounding hollow like wind through a reed. "How did you do so much in so little time? It took you three days to journey through the trials of four Creators, and two of those met you at the same time! How did you meet and endure the tests of three more in as many hours?"

"Do I owe you an answer to that after you failed to answer me, Mara? Do I owe you the truth for your lie? That's a poor exchange, and you know it. Don't take me for a fool. You insult our masters if you think you can trick me in ways they couldn't." He spat, letting the acid in his throat burn the edge of her kimono, ruining the garment. Let her penchant for obsessive cleanliness deal with that, he thought with a chuff.

"I suppose neither of us owes the other a thing, Prince Izuku," she bit the air, barely restraining herself. Good, he thought. Let's knock you further off balance.

"I already know the answers, Mara," he sneered. "I know about the conspiracy. Despite my confinement, I left eyes and ears of my own outside, or did you forget?"

She quivered under his gaze, but he doubted it was fear. More likely, she shook with rage. "What conspiracy?" She forgot to add a Princely honorific to the end of her question. How sad.

"Someone here concocted a plan, all on their own I might add, to sell a Prince of Malfeas into slavery, to turn a servant of the Reclamation, one who reports to the King directly, and offer them in chains, not to the whole but one, and just one, of the Creators." He smirked when she clenched her jaw shut, eyeing him defiantly with a raised chin.

Her silence meant she was painfully aware that she needed to get her story straight, to word things precisely so his power wouldn't catch her in a lie.

"Oh? No witty remark? Will you pretend you weren't there when Mahbagodeth said he manipulated every piece on the board? His statement back then, not long ago for you, certainly didn't surprise you. Will you truly plead ignorance to the scheme? Manipulating the humans into attacking the Prince? Extracting oaths from the mother regent, then trying to extract more from my emissary, ones that you both knew I'd inherit when we merged back together?" His predatory smile grew with each question. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this.

At last, Izuku backed Mara into too tight a corner. She either had to answer, risk lying to him, or commit to killing him out of desperation. Either road meant harsh punishment when she returned to Malfeas.

"No! It wasn't like that!" Ah, so that's the choice she'd make.

"Then how was it, Mara," his voice corroded her willpower as if it were acid. The intolerable burning power of Kimbery and the seductive nature of the Ebon Dragon flowed through his words. At the same time, he calculated, allotting every conversation factor with all the Endless Desert's precision. "Tell me about your noble purpose for me."

"We were stamping out your human side! We wanted to shed away your rebellious nature!" she yelled in desperation, her typical mask of amused indifference cracked and missing from her pleading eyes.

It wasn't a lie. Izuku hadn't caught her yet. "I don't recall accusing you of being part of the conspiracy, just a witness. It was Mahbagodeth that confessed his designs earlier if you recall." He smiled when, eyes wide, Mara snapped her jaw shut, nervously chewing while trembling on the ground in front of him. Yes, he thought, pleased with himself. Soon you'll lie, or lash out, or both. Soon.

"So," he rumbled, low and threatening. "Was that all you were doing, Mara? Just stamping out my human desire for rebellion, you say. Nothing more?"

She steeled her jaw. "Of course!"

At last, Izuku heard it. A chime rang deep in his heart, resonating up through his bones. Finally, he caught her in a lie she couldn't worm around. He inhaled, filling the forge bellow lungs in his chest, savoring the taste of her fear-fueled deception.

Izuku chuckled, and she bit her lip in response. She knew he'd caught her. "That's why he isn't here," it wasn't a question. "He knows I'm aware of the truth. Where is he hiding? I didn't see him on my way here. Tell me, betray your conspirator, reveal the full scope of his sins, and I'll spare you. We won't return to Malfeas, though, while he lives."

She regarded him with wide eyes. His promise had to tempt her, but she wasn't a fool. Even now, Mara had to weigh his empty words against the inevitable retribution she'd face if she attacked and killed a loyal Prince of the Reclamation. Her trump card, surrounding him with lesser demons, was now her possible undoing. Any of them could betray her later, saying that the Prince she killed was innocent of any crime against the Creators.

That fear only carried so far, though. The Unquestionable would always trust a Citizen's word over a serf's ramblings.

More problematic for her case, though, was Sondok, unseen and ephemeral out there beyond his senses, but most certainly watching. She was a card Izuku kept up his sleeve, but he'd have to play it soon.

Mara flinched her face into a serene smile, resuming her courtier persona. "I don't know what you're talking about, Prince Izuku. The Bloodwell is merely preparing for our departure."

The chime was louder, more insistent this time. Izuku wasn't sure which of the two statements were false. Perhaps both. Mara had, like Izuku before her, chosen an option her captor didn't anticipate. She found a way forward, one that came naturally to her.

Treachery.

He had to navigate carefully, guide her back into the trap. Calling her out for assisting the masked demon wouldn't work. He needed to remind her that if she would betray the Reclamation, she couldn't do it without risk. He sighed as if disappointed in her choices. "It's clear you helped him, Mara. I wonder what he offered you, but it doesn't matter, does it? Was Sondok part of your plan as well? Did she betray Ligier and Malfeas for your plot, or was her defeat by the humans something the two of you contributed to? Perhaps some poison she might not detect?"

Izuku smiled, not knowing how well his bluff would play out. He suspected, but he didn't know.

Mara cast her eyes away from his face, staring forward. She had no answer for him. Good, he thought. The trap is closing in again, and this time you see the walls around you, the chains you're wearing. Rattle against them, Mara. Rattle and rage, blame me for your incompetence, underestimating a Prince of Malfeas!

"So," Izuku reached forward as if you cup her chin in his fingers, but Mara recoiled from him. She broke decorum and stood, defying all custom and etiquette for a newly ascended Prince. No matter. He stood as well, not with the same urgency as her, showing off that he wasn't concerned with her capacity for violence.

Except, of course, he was extremely concerned.

Izuku laughed mirthlessly. "It was just the two of you, then. You probably thought selling me to Cecelyne, binding me into her favor, would protect you, let you hide behind her dunes. How unfortunate for you, for both of you."

She stared at him hatefully, wordlessly.

"We are all servants of Malfeas," he explained. "The Creators are beyond question, but even so, Malfeas is the first and greatest among equals. You understand what that means better than I do, Mara. The guilt for this crime falls on just two heads. Justice demands that you both die for betraying the Reclamation."

Mara composed herself well, breathing long, steadying lungfuls of air. That was a ruse. Izuku saw the attack coming long before Mara decided to act, preceded only by shadows dancing toward his vision. He dismissed the shades with a burst of light from his eyes while wrapping deeper darkness around his thoughts than even Mara could penetrate.

Mara sliced at his neck with Sondok's sword, so carefully concealed in her long sleeve, as if Izuku would forget the blade that already struck him once. She roared in frustration when his neck hardened into infinitely strong green-hued brass, superheating at the strength of her blow but otherwise refusing to receive one lick of damage.

Her roar became an agonized cry as Izuku bared his teeth, his power flowing into the point of contact on his neck. With a burst of explosive brass shrapnel and fire, the sword flew from Mara's grasp, twisting her wrist as it abandoned her, refusing to assist her in her battle against Izuku's adamant-hard body.

Izuku's snarling expression, the flash of anger in his eyes, all transitioned into an unconquerably cruel smile as the demons around them stared agape at Mara's useless attack. At last, she fell into his trap completely.

Horror showed through her eyes as they widened, separating from each other, her inhuman visage slowly emerging through her illusions, just like Izuku had dispelled her illusion just now. She looked down at his arms, confusion on her face.

Izuku's arms were behind his back. When Mara leaped forward to attack him, he moved even faster, not to defend himself but to open himself up to her assault.

Even now, the demons murmured among themselves, marveling at the paradox of what they witnessed. Izuku couldn't blame them. After all, Mara was a master of illusions. No doubt, she used her shadows to infect all their minds, making it look like Izuku attacked her. She just tried to do the same thing to him with her projected shadows, trying to muddle him into misremembering who started the fight.

"You tried to frame me just now," he declared loud enough for all to hear. "Your illusion won't work. It doesn't coincide enough with reality. You made them all see me attack you, yet it was your sword that struck my neck while my hands were behind my back. Two conflicting reports from their eyes can't coexist, not with this much dissonance, Mara," Izuku sneered.

Mara backed away, folding and unfolding her fan, an illusion to conceal one of her weapons, no doubt. "That was clever, little Prince. Too clever by far for a Prince so young, one that the Creators worked tirelessly to rid of his memories."

Izuku ignored her baiting remark.

"Your conspirator abandoned you, Mara." He had bait of his own. "He's hiding somewhere, preparing his defenses. Sondok's ephemeral, waiting to fulfill her duty and escort me to my rightful place in Malfeas. Until she recovers enough to rebuild her body, you're on your own, though I doubt she'll help a traitor like you."

Mara stood to her full height, her limbs lengthening, thinning, as she prepared for hand-to-hand combat against a foe more worthy than she probably would have admitted earlier. "Kill him," she ordered with all the confidence such a command deserved, expecting immediate obedience.

The demons paused, hesitating. Many of Mara's oil-slicked followers lumbered forward, testing if others would follow suit. They did not. Neither the blood apes nor the wasps charged forward. Her assassin-mimics were suited for sneak attacks, but a full-frontal assault on a Prince would result in many lost lives, and only one of them would be royal.

"Anyone taking orders from Mara is a traitor," Izuku roared. "I won't hide behind all of you. I'll lead from the front. Watch what the Princes of the All Thing Infernal do to those who defy the Reclamation."

Mara's eyes widened into round spheres of black rage. Those words! Her eyes practically screamed! Your execution! I remember those words from just before your death, and so do you!

Izuku smirked at her rattling realization. That's ancient history, and I'm not the one about to get fucked, his snarling confidence told her.

Izuku cracked his neck from side to side and limbered up his joints while lowering into a fighting stance, taking his hands from behind his back while manifesting a crystal dagger in each. With a pulse of power, the tattoos on his back glowed brightly, tearing through the shadow-substance of his clothes as he washed the world behind him with cobalt-blue light as disks of glass-like essence formed like a shield hovering there, guarding his rear flanks. Mara squinted her eyes, struggling to look straight at him as he brightened the world behind him like a burning star.

Izuku smiled, but this time he wasn't acting. He gleefully relished the coming slaughter. "It's time to dance, Mara."

It was the only warning he offered.

Izuku charged forward, surging with more power and speed than the human eye could follow. Anyone watching the transmission from his earpiece would see nothing but a blur as the world warped around him. Inhuman sight, though, followed the blur of motion with alarming ease. Izuku's fire-lit eyes had no trouble adapting to the world as he sped through it.

He drank in the sight of Mara's startled discomposure as she retreated onto her hooved feet, backing away from him as quickly as shadows recoil from light. Now wasn't the time to marvel that he was fighting on the same level as her. This battle required all his attention, every demon-wrought instinct and Primordial-carved power his body contained.

The act was over, and every player spoke their lines perfectly. This moment called for only one thing: violence.

Izuku unleashed his power, bursting towards Mara with physically impossible speeds as time bent around him, no longer holding himself back behind walls of iron-strong restraint. As Mara dodged out of his way, flickering like a shadow from his strobing light, Izuku's blows rushed forward. His thrusting blades impacted against walls, cars, igniting everything Izuku touched with detonations of green fire. Asphalt and concrete melted into glassy slag in his wake. Light poles and loose debris bent towards him, crushing themselves under the force of his gravity as he pulled relentlessly on Mara, binding her with an attraction too strong to ever let her escape him. Demons ran about, scurrying like rats on a sinking ship, unsure of what to do as they watched two immortals, great Citizens of Malfeas, trying to kill each other.

Mara deflected several burning blows from Izuku, her eyes wide as his attacks blew holes into the building behind her, causing the house to crumple inward on itself before igniting, screaming into the night as mortar and wood burned alongside foam and plaster.

If Izuku acted quickly, he could end this now. He almost had her pinned. A few more testing blows, wearing down her defenses, was all he needed.

Mara smiled as she melted into shadows beneath him. It was the only warning Izuku received before his senses screamed at him. He hardened his skin to impossible levels before obsidian shards, sharper than any human blade ever forged, rained down on him, lighting up sparks as they rammed uselessly into his bass-armor-skin. He roared in frustration, not at the sneak attack, but that the timing meant his prey got away, that the flow of battle was no longer in his favor.

"Swarm him," Mahbagodeth called, his grating wind-chime voice resonating from somewhere above Izuku, not that he could look up during the demon's hailstorm attack. Izuku didn't need to look. He could feel the essence gathering in the air as the masked devil prepared more spells to unleash on him.

"Kill the Prince, the humans, and any who stand idle. No witnesses." The dissonant record-scratches ordered the lower ranks to move, urging them on, not out of loyalty to their masters but fear for their lives. Izuku clamped down so hard on his teeth that his gums bled, forcing himself to step forward one foot at a time under the endless assault of tiny stone blades.

He should have counted on this. Demons, at their core, are cowards. Oh, indeed, they are monsters in combat, experts at killing and murdering. In war, those are assets, but they are not warriors, not in the truest sense. They charge into battle with absolute assurance that they will live to see another day, hiding behind the shield of their immortality. When one of their superiors threatens their lives, suddenly, that shield is gone. Like wounded beasts, they thrash wildly, possessed by the singular desire to survive.

To live on, the demons around him needed to kill him. They'd pick the winning side, not caring about the repercussions of tomorrow. When an immortal is in genuine peril, tomorrow doesn't exist.

Trapped under the marked demon's sorcery, Izuku couldn't escape from the thronging horde as they swarmed in around him. How bitterly familiar, Izuku thought, remembering the last time he found himself trapped in the eye of a bloody storm.

He escaped Adorjan. He'd not give Mara and Mahbagodeth the fucking pleasure of succeeding where the Silent Wind failed.

The beastly cohort charged in, closing on him like a predator's jaws, ready to slice, bite, and tear Izuku limb from limb even if some of them would die trying.

As sparks flew from his bronze skin and the enemy got closer, Izuku smiled, his fangs bare and ready like the blades in his hands. "I am here!" he shouted like thunder over the metallic roar of the shrapnel, repeatedly striking him, wearing him down. "Come join me!"

Somewhere on the sidelines, Sondok's sword vanished into motes of sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like it's been too long since I wrote about Prince Izuku. It felt good to return to this, my first and dearest fic. After spending so much time writing and re-writing "Izuku's Time Traveling Babysitting Service" I had to rush back here and work on this. Next, I plan to update my explicit fic, "Midoriya Izuku vs. the Women of Sigma Epsilon Chi (S.E.X.)" before returning to Babysitting again, starting the three-fic cycle over. Reflection is still on hold for now while I work on the remaining fics and my novel.
> 
> In personal news, there've been some highs and lows since my last update. My sister endured surgery to remove lung cancer. Another friend reported that their mother underwent a similar surgery. Both made it. Meanwhile, my wife and I are working through the long medical drama of starting our family. Unfortunately, all of this uplifting news is counterbalanced by the Covid-caused death of a dear friend and mentor. I'll miss him, and wish I'd known him longer.
> 
> On that note, feel free to come and see us on Discord or follow me on Twitter.
> 
> Discord: /25BTet3
> 
> Twitter: darklogic2
> 
> I'm working to catch up on comments and will get to yours soon. Thank you for reading and I look forward to seeing you when I release the next chapter!


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